Coming to Know
by Snakequeen-in-Norway
Summary: Sequel to Coming to Care! Not going to make much sense if you haven't read the first one. Severus made a promise to Harry, how will he fulfill it? Mild swearing, child abuse by the Dursleys. 3rd and final installment is up and in-progress.
1. Chapter 1: Remembered

**Author's Note: The sequel to Coming to Care! It picks up at the end of Harry's third year.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: The plot is mine, but everything recognizable is Jo's. I think you already knew that.**

**Chapter One: Remembered**

It was the last day of term before the summer holidays, and Harry was sitting glumly on his trunk, which he had just managed to force shut.

"Aw, come on, Harry, cheer up," said Ron, coming out from under his bed with a pair of very dusty socks clutched in his fist.

"I'm fine," said Harry, standing up. "Come on, we'll be late."

Ron threw the socks into his trunk and slammed down the lid and the two boys made their way downstairs, Ron talking nonstop about his plans for the summer holidays.

It was all very well for Ron, thought Harry; he had a large and loving family to go home to when he left Hogwarts for the holidays. But Hogwarts _was_ Harry's home, and all he had to look forward to during the holidays was trying to avoid his horrible relatives as much as possible. This prospect seemed even bleaker after the events of the past few days. For one wonderful hour Harry had thought that he would be getting a new home with his godfather, Sirius Black, who had promised Harry that he could come and live with him as soon as his name was cleared. But this had proved impossible; although Sirius was innocent of the crimes he had been imprisoned for, his name was not cleared, and he had been forced to go into hiding.

There had been another promise too, one that Harry hadn't mentioned Ron and Hermione. Professor Snape, the Hogwarts Potions Master, had promised him that he wouldn't have to go back to his abusive relatives, at least not without "serious intervention."

Harry hadn't quite known what to think about this promise. Professor Snape had been Harry's most hated teacher since he first started at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the feeling had been mutual. Then, during the Christmas holidays, Harry had fallen deathly ill while serving detention with Snape, and the Potions Master had worked tirelessly to save his life, sacrificing his own health in the process. During this time the two had reached an understanding, and Harry had felt more cared for than he ever had by any adult in his life. When Snape had made his promise it had seemed too good to be true...

And, apparently, it was. After that day Snape had made no more mention of Harry's home life or trying to keep him from having to go back to the Dursleys. To say that things had gone back to the way they had been before would be untruthful; no longer was there that cold hatred in Snape's eyes when he looked at Harry, or the unfair punishments doled out for no reason. Harry trusted the man, he knew that much, but it had been foolhardy to think that Snape would actually get him removed from his relatives' custody. In fact, what with all of the to-do about Sirius Black, Harry hadn't thought much about Snape in the recent months, which left him feeling just a bit empty and just a bit guilty.

And that was another thing, Sirius. Snape hated Sirius, Harry's godfather, just as he hated Remus Lupin and had hated Harry's father, James Potter. Harry wasn't sure why exactly, but he knew it dated back to their school days, when the professor had also been friends with Harry's mother. When Snape had shown up in the Shrieking Shack that night he had not seemed like the sympathetic man whom Harry had come to see him as during the time he had spent in Snape's quarters. He had been much more like the cold, sneering Potions Master who used to look at Harry with such hatred in his eyes. Now Harry didn't know what to think. He so wanted to believe that Snape still cared about him, like he had seemed to earlier in the year, but he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Snape had probably gone back to hating him. And someone who hated him certainly wouldn't try to get him away from the Dursleys for the summer.

Suppressing a sigh, Harry pasted a smile on his face as he and Ron joined Hermione in the common room and the three of them went down to the Great Hall for their last breakfast of term.

*****CTK*****

Receiving a letter from Sirius on the train on the way home, and the effect that the news that his godfather was a convicted murderer had on Uncle Vernon, had the effect of making Harry significantly more cheerful as he waved goodbye to his friends and followed his uncle to the car. This increased cheer lasted until Harry arrived back at Privet Drive.

"Go to your room!" snarled Uncle Vernon, shoving Harry hard in the back. He stumbled and caught himself on the door frame, scraping his palm painfully.

"I said _go_!" shouted his Uncle, taking a menacing step toward him.

Not knowing how far the threat of writing to Sirius would go to protect him, and not wanting to stick around to find out, Harry made for his room, dragging his trunk behind him.

"Not so fast!" said Uncle Vernon, grabbing his wrist hard enough to bruise. "You leave _that_ here."

"But I need it to do my—"

"Leave it _here_!" shouted Uncle Vernon, spraying Harry with specks of spittle. "I will not have any—any of _that_ going on inside my house!"

There was nothing Harry could do but watch in helpless anger as Uncle Vernon locked all of his school things away in the cupboard under the stairs, the same cupboard that had been his bedroom until he was eleven years old.

*****CTK*****

Over the next week Harry's spirits continued to plummet. He received no letters, either from Ron inviting him to the Quidditch World Cup like he had said he would, or from Sirius checking up on him. The only thing that kept the Dursleys from carrying out their many threats was the fear of Sirius swooping in and turning them into bats.

They did still try their best to make his life miserable, however.

"Boy!" shrieked Aunt Petunia. "Boy! Why isn't breakfast ready?"

"I'm working on it!" called Harry tiredly. He cut Dudley's grapefruit into quarters. Even the sight of the measly grapefruit was making his stomach grumble terribly, as Uncle Vernon had sent him to bed without dinner the night before, but he knew that he would only get to eat once the Dursleys had finished, provided there was any food left once Dudley had eaten.

Harry laid the grapefruit down on the table as his uncle, aunt, and cousin came into the room.

"Move it, freak," said Dudley, bumping into Harry and shoving him up against the wall. Harry bit back a yelp as his elbow collided with the corner of the stove. Eyes watering, he sat down in his place at the table.

*****CTK*****

The Dursleys were going out for the day so Harry was taking the opportunity to pick the lock on the cupboard under the stairs and retrieve his schoolbooks and homework. It was exceedingly unlucky for him, therefore, that his aunt, uncle, and cousin returned several hours earlier than expected.

Harry heard the key turn in the lock and frantically tried to stuff his things back into the cupboard, but he wasn't quite fast enough. The door slammed, his aunt said something and Dudley replied sulkily, and then footsteps came around the corner.

"BOY!" thundered Uncle Vernon, and Harry was thrown painfully against the stair railing, jarring his spine. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"I—"

"Don't talk back to me!" shouted Uncle Vernon, his bright purple face just inches from Harry's own.

"I wasn't—I just—"

SMACK!

Uncle Vernon had cracked his large, meaty hand across Harry's cheek.

"Maybe that'll teach you to have some respect," he said, still dangling Harry several inches above the ground.

Harry and his uncle glared at each other, both refusing to break eye contact. Uncle Vernon had just raised his hand to hit Harry again when the doorbell rang.

Uncle Vernon dropped Harry to the floor, where he barely managed to keep his footing.

"_Stay there,"_ said Uncle Vernon threateningly. He marched over to the door and yanked it open. "Yes?"

Harry couldn't see who was at the door; Uncle Vernon's bulk was blocking his view. He heard a low, silky murmur that sounded somehow familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

Then Uncle Vernon said loudly, "No, we don't want any!" and shut the door in the newcomer's face.

Or at least he tried to. The person on the other side of the door must have been quite strong, for they forced the door open again and said in a clearer voice that carried over to the stairs where Harry was standing, "I advise you to step aside, Dursley."

"No, I will not step aside!" said Uncle Vernon. "This is my house and I demand some respect!"

"Vernon, Vernon, who is it?" Aunt Petunia had come scurrying into the room.

"I have no idea," said Uncle Vernon. "Some crackpot or practical joker—"

Aunt Petunia craned her neck to peer over Uncle Vernon's shoulder and then gasped. "You!"

"Do you know this man?" asked Uncle Vernon incredulously.

"I—I—no—" stuttered Aunt Petunia, but it was obvious that she did know the man standing in the doorway.

Harry was getting increasingly annoyed and also very curious. Standing on tiptoe halfway up the steps, he tried to see past his aunt and uncle to the figure in the doorway. This proved unnecessary, however, when the man brushed past Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia into the entryway.

"_Professor Snape?"_

Snape's head snapped up and he looked at Harry, who was staring back at him in utter shock. What was _Snape_ doing in Privet Drive of all places?

"Harry..." Severus's first feeling was of profound relief. The boy was okay. His brain had insisted on playing out all sorts of terrible scenarios, in which Severus had come too late and Harry had been seriously injured or gravely ill. Severus had gotten used to being able to see the boy every day, just visually check up on him to make sure he was okay. Even a week of him being alone with his abusive relatives seemed like far too long. On a closer look, however, Severus saw that all was not, in fact, well. While Harry appeared to be more or less alright, he was very pale and skinny and there were dark circles under his eyes. There was also what looked like fresh blood on the boy's cheek.

Rage boiled up inside Severus. "Potter," he said tersely, "come here."

Harry hesitated. He was torn between fear and relief. Part of him wanted to throw himself into Snape's arms and beg him to take him away, and part of him wanted to run up to his bedroom and slam the door.

"Potter, I said come _here_!"

Harry came. Severus bent down to look into the thirteen-year-old's face.

"You're bleeding," he said, touching a finger to Harry's cheek.

Harry flinched. "It's nothing..."

Severus clamped a vice-like hand on Harry's shoulder. "You're coming with me," he said.

"What—"

"Now you wait just one damn minute!" shouted Uncle Vernon, taking a step forward. "He's not going anywhere unless _I _say he's going!"

"I'm afraid that _you_ have very little say in the matter, Dursley," said Severus coldly.

"He's my nephew!"

Severus had his wand out so fast Harry hadn't even seen him draw it.

"Take one more step, Dursley," he spat, "and you will dearly regret it." He turned his eyes to Aunt Petunia, who was standing in the doorway, her hands over her mouth. "Petunia, tell your great oaf of a husband to step off."

Uncle Vernon rounded on his wife. "Who is he?"

"He's—he's—he knew Lily—"

"Don't you mention Lily," said Severus dangerously. "I am Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Uncle Vernon's eyes bulged at this blatant reference to magic in his house, but Snape's wand was still pointing at his head, so he wisely kept silent.

"I have come to take Harry. You will not see him for the rest of the Holidays."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked at each other. Harry knew what they were thinking. As much as they hated anyone telling them what they were and weren't going to do, especially someone from the magical world, getting rid of Harry only a week into the summer holidays was an inviting prospect.

Harry himself didn't know what to think. If you had asked him a year ago whether he would rather stay with the Dursleys or go off to some unknown location with Snape, he would have answered the Durleys any day, but now, as crazy as it sounded, he was hoping that he would be able to go with Snape. Had the Potions Master remembered his promise after all...?

Severus began to steer Harry toward the door, but Uncle Vernon barred the way.

"Get out of the way," said Severus in a soft, menacing voice.

Uncle Vernon wavered but didn't budge. He pulled himself up to his full height, puffed out his chest, and loomed over Severus. Severus stared coldly back.

Harry stood nervously in between them. The animosity radiating from the two men was palpable. Finally Uncle Vernon looked away and backed down, and Severus swept Harry out of the door.

"My things—" said Harry.

Severus flicked his wand behind them and Harry's school trunk and other possessions followed them out of the door. Then, with another flick of his wand, they disappeared.

"What—where—" said Harry, looking around bewildered.

"Hold still," commanded Severus.

Harry stopped craning his neck to try and find his things and held still. Suddenly everything went black. It felt as though he were being squeezed through a very tight plastic tube. Snape's hand felt like it was glued to his shoulder. He couldn't breathe. Just when he was beginning to panic, he felt a popping sensation, and he and Snape were suddenly standing in a very different place than the one that had been in a few moments earlier.

This was too much for Harry. He staggered and fell to his knees, shaking.

Severus knelt down beside him. "Potter...Harry...look at me."

Harry raised his head and looked at his professor.

"Come on," said Severus, laying a gentle hand on Harry's back. "Up you get."

Humiliatingly, Harry began to cry.

"Harry, Harry, stop it," said Severus, completely out of his element. He patted Harry awkwardly on the back, but this just seemed to make the boy cry even harder. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"You—you remembered," said Harry, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"What?" said Severus, completely baffled.

"You remembered your promise."

Severus felt a tug at his heart. "You thought I'd forgotten?"

"Well..."

Severus stood up and pulled Harry to his feet. "I do not make promises I do not intend to keep, Potter," He said. "It just took me a little longer than I anticipated."

Harry sniffled. "So, you don't hate me again?"

"Why—of all the—no, you foolish boy, I do _not_ hate you again."

Harry smiled hesitantly. "So—er—where are we?" he asked.

"We are outside my house at Spinner's End," said Severus. "Where I am going to take you until we figure out what is to be done with you."

"Y-your house, sir?"

"Yes, Potter, my house," said Severus impatiently. "Come along, I haven't got all day."

Harry, still feeling rather overwhelmed, followed Snape up a set of stone steps and into a small, dark, brick house.

**AN: Hope you like it so far. If you feel so inclined as to review...well, that would be awesome ;)**

**-SQ**


	2. Chapter 2: It Hurts

**Author's Note: I apologize for the ridiculous shortness of this chapter. I had meant for more to happen in it, but then I got to this point and the chapter wanted to be over, so the other stuff happens in the next chapter.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Do I really have to say it? I don't own Harry Potter. Are you happy now?**

**Chapter Two: It Hurts**

Severus led Harry into his sitting room, deposited him unceremoniously into a chair, and flicked his wand at the candles, lighting up the room with a sudden flare. He then tucked his wand back into his robes and bent over the nervous-looking boy.

"What happened to your face, Potter?" he asked, reaching out his hand to touch the cut.

Harry jerked back. "OW!"

Severus frowned. "Hold still, Potter."

"It _hurts_," said Harry.

"It wouldn't hurt so badly if you hadn't been crying saltwater into it," said Severus tersely. "Let me see." He touched the cut on Harry's cheek again.

"Ouch!" said Harry. "Don't _do _that!"

"Potter," growled Severus. "Hold _still_!"

Harry glared at his professor. "I thought you were supposed to be nice to me now."

"Hmph," snorted Severus. "I am not in the habit of being _nice_, Potter. But, believe it or not, I am trying to help you. So if you would kindly _hold still_..."

Harry gritted his teeth as Severus inspected the wound. "How did this happen, Potter?" he asked more gently. "It looks very recent."

Harry stared at his lap. "It's nothing."

"_Potter_, you _know_ that doesn't work with me," said Severus. He forced Harry's chin up.

"OW!" said Harry. "You're _hurting_ me!"

Severus loosened his grip. "I did not mean to hurt you, Potter," he said. "Now tell me how you got this cut."

"My uncle hit me, okay?" Harry mumbled. "He—I was being bad and—"

"Potter!" said Severus roughly. "Though I have no doubt that you were, yet again, breaking the rules, that does not excuse your uncle hitting you. I have already told you, it is _not your fault_."

Harry nodded noncommittally, blinking rapidly.

"Harry," said Severus more softly. He knelt down in front of the child. "There is a difference between discipline and abuse. I've been there, remember? I know."

Harry raised his head and looked into his professor's dark, bottomless eyes. The emotion in them was unreadable; it made him feel safe and frightened at the same time.

"I am going to put a potion on your cheek," Severus continued. "It will sting. I need you to hold still."

Severus summoned a vial of blue-green potion and poured some onto his fingertips, then he rubbed it into the cut on Harry's cheek.

Harry gasped, eyes watering furiously, though Severus tried his best to be gentle.

When he was done he laid his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Potter? Are you alright?"

Harry nodded. "Yes. I'm fine. Er—thank you."

"You are welcome," said Severus. "Now take of your shirt."

"What?" said Harry incredulously.

Severus sighed impatiently. "Take of your shirt, Potter. Surely such a simple instruction isn't beyond you. I want to see how else you are injured."

Feeling very self-conscious, Harry pulled his t-shirt off over his head and sat there, shivering, in Severus's armchair.

Severus took in the scars and bruises covering the boy's pale flesh. There were only a few fresh ones, most of them were old, but they still made the Potions Master feel slightly ill.

"How did you get this one?" he asked, pointing to a vivid burn/bruise on Harry's elbow.

"I hit it on the stove," he said. "Dudley pushed me."

Severus examined a few of the newer bruises and cuts. None of them looked serious.

"Put your shirt back on, Potter," said Severus tiredly.

Harry hurried to pull the shirt back over his head. He was awfully skinny, Severus noticed. Always had been. Not as muscular by half as his father.

"Are you hungry, Potter?" asked Severus.

"Oh yes," said Harry eagerly. "Er—sir," he added.

Severus raised his eyebrows at the boy's belated self-correction but made no comment.

"Come with me," said Severus, leading the way in to the kitchen. Harry hurried after him.

"Don't touch anything," said Severus as he flicked his wand, a sandwich began to prepare itself on the counter.

Harry sat down awkwardly at the kitchen table, glancing around the small, neat kitchen.

Severus placed the sandwich and a glass of milk in front of him. "Eat."

Harry chewed and swallowed, aware all the while of his professor watching him eat. When he had taken his last bite of sandwich and washed it down with his last sip of milk, he glanced at Severus.

"I'm done."

"So I see," said Severus dryly. He regarded the boy in front of him. He looked exhausted; there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Come along, Potter," said Severus. "I'll show you where you will be sleeping tonight."

*****CTK*****

"You are to stay in here," Severus instructed. "Do not wander around the house, do not get into anything that does not concern you." He gazed at Harry severely. "This is a private dwelling, not a playground."

"Yes sir," muttered Harry, sitting down on the bed. "My things...?"

"Are under the bed," said Severus.

Harry leaned over and pulled up the edge of the comforter. Sure enough, his trunk, broom, and owl cage, containing a balefully blinking Hedwig, were neatly lined up there.

Harry pulled Hedwig's cage out and placed it on his dresser.

"She'll like it better there," he explained.

Severus pursed his lips. "If that owl makes any...messes, _you_ are to clean them up. I expect this room to remain as spotless as it is now, is that clear?"

"Yes sir," said Harry, hurriedly snatching his hand back from stroking Hedwig and attempting to wipe it surreptitiously on his robes. Severus gave him a look and he stopped, looking sheepish.

"I will see you in the morning," said Severus. "Be downstairs promptly at eight o'clock." He strode to the door then hesitated and turned around. Harry looked awfully small, sitting there in the middle of the large guest bed. "Goodnight, Harry."

Harry offered him the ghost of the smile. "Goodnight, Professor."

**AN: I hope you liked it, despite the length (or lack thereof). Thanks, as always, for reading :) I know it seems like Harry and Severus have backtracked a little, but really they have; they haven't had much contact with each other for several months outside of the classroom, and then the whole Shrieking Shack thing happened. It is talked about in later chapters. Remember, reviews are greatly appreciated. And I reply to them too ;)**

**-SQ**


	3. Chapter 3: Staying

**Author's Note: For clarification: When Severus told Harry not to leave his room he meant not to go wandering around the house getting into things. He can still get up to go to the bathroom if he needs to, Severus is just a very private person who doesn't want anyone else, especially Harry, getting into his private things and affairs.**

**Disclaimer: Like the rest of the people on this site, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Three: Staying**

Severus sat down at his kitchen table with his head in his hands, staring unseeingly at his half-full goblet of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey. He had sent an owl to Albus, requesting to speak with him as soon as possible, as soon as he had come downstairs. He rubbed his temples. The events of the day had given him a throbbing headache. The deluge of emotions that came over him when he so much as thought of the Potter boy would have overwhelmed a weaker man. As it was, Severus was glad that he would be getting Potter off his hands tomorrow, knowing he would be going somewhere safe. Then he could put the infernal child out of his mind. Severus shook his head and sighed. It had been a lot easier when he had simply hated the boy.

Slowly Severus got up and dumped the remains of his firewhiskey down the drain, knowing that it wouldn't do to get drunk with Potter in the house. Then he flicked off the kitchen lights and made his way tiredly up the stairs to his room.

As he passed the guest room he paused. The bedroom light was still on. Leaning into the door, Severus heard the telltale sound of breathing which was neither slow enough nor deep enough to come from a sleeping child.

Severus's hand hesitated on the doorknob. It wasn't any of his business whether the boy slept or not, so long as he didn't go wandering about the house.

Severus's curiosity got the better of him; he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

"Potter, why are you still awake?"

Harry, who had been sitting on his bed in almost the same position as Severus had left him, but now dressed in his pajamas, jumped.

"Well?" said Severus archly.

"Er—I—I couldn't sleep sir," said Harry.

"Well that much is obvious," said Severus, stepping fully into the room. Harry followed the door with his eyes as Severus shut it behind him.

"Is there a particular _reason_ that you could not sleep, Potter?" asked Severus.

Harry fiddled with the bedspread. "I don't know sir," he said. "I just couldn't."

"Have you tried simply turning out the light and laying down and closing your eyes?" said Severus dryly.

"_Yes,"_ said Harry, glaring at his professor. "I'm not an idiot."

"Do not use that tone with me, Potter," said Severus, narrowing his own eyes.

"Sorry sir," Harry mumbled resentfully.

Severus eyed the boy. He almost looked ill; there were dark, bruise-like circles under his eyes, which were faintly bloodshot.

"Do you often have trouble sleeping, Potter?" said Severus, suddenly noticing how awkward it felt to be standing over the boy sitting on the bed.

"Sometimes," said Harry noncommittally.

"_Potter,"_ said Severus warningly.

"Er—not at Hogwarts usually," said Harry, trying to evade Snape's questioning.

"But at your aunt and uncle's?" Severus pressed

"Yes," admitted Harry. He looked up at his professor. The man looked frightening, towering above him in his billowing black robes. Snape must have seen the shadow of fear in his eyes, because he lowered himself onto the bed beside Harry.

"You ought to sleep, Potter," he said more gently. "You look half dead."

"You think I _want_ to not be able to get to sleep?" said Harry.

"I didn't say that, Potter," said Severus. "Do not put words in my mouth."

Harry rubbed his eyes. He was so _tired_. All he wanted was to lie down and fall asleep, but that had proved impossible. He longed for his familiar four poster bed at Hogwarts.

Severus frowned. If Potter kept this up he was going to become ill. And that was the last thing he needed, a sick Potter on his hands, again.

"Potter...Harry...what can I do to help you sleep?" said Severus, as kindly as he could and feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

Harry looked at him in surprise. "I—I don't know sir. I'm not trying to be stubborn," he added quickly as Severus opened his mouth, "I really don't know."

"I wasn't going to yell at you, Potter," said Severus.

"Oh..."

Severus rubbed his forehead. A terrible migraine was building painfully inside his skull.

Harry noticed the gesture. "Professor? Are you alright?"

"Yes, Potter, I am fine," said Severus, more sharply than he had intended.

Harry bit his lip. "I didn't mean to give you a headache," he mumbled.

"Potter," said Severus tightly. "Sometimes you are too perceptive for your own good. However, this whole day has given me a headache, do not presume to give yourself all the credit."

Harry smiled tentatively. Severus felt his austere expression relax.

"Lie down, Harry," he said. "Try and get some rest."

"Yes, sir," said Harry. He pulled back the covers, laid his head on the pillow, and pulled the comforter up to his neck. His eyelids immediately began to drift closed.

"There," said Severus, standing up. "Not so difficult after all."

Harry opened his eyes to look at his professor.

"_Sleep_, Potter," said Severus sternly.

Harry closed his eyes again.

Severus briefly laid a hand on Harry's dark hair, then he strode out of the bedroom, turning off the lights and shutting the door on his way out.

*****CTK*****

"Severus?"

Severus looked up from the _Daily Prophet_ he hadn't really been reading.

"Albus, it's about time."

"I'm sorry, my boy, there were other matters that required my attention. But I am here now. Where is Harry?"

"He is upstairs in my guest room," said Severus. "I told him to be down and ready to go by eight o'clock."

"Yes, about that," said Dumbledore, taking a chair uninvited and leaning back. "Why is it that you are so eager to get rid of Harry?"

"Eager to get rid of him?" said Severus incredulously. "He doesn't belong here!"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before you requested to remove him from his relatives' care."

"Care?" spat Severus. "Some kind of care!"

"And where is he supposed to go now?" said Dumbledore mildly.

"I—I—I don't know!" spluttered Severus. "That's none of my concern! I rescued him from those accursed people. I've done my part."

"I am afraid, Severus," said Dumbledore, not sounding at all sorry, "that your part is far from over. You must know, surely, that he cannot stay at Hogwarts during the holidays."

"What are you suggesting, Albus?" said Severus, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "That he stay _here_?"

"Exactly, my boy." said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling.

"I am not a nursemaid or a babysitter!" said Severus.

"And Harry is not a baby," said Dumbledore. He stood up. "I have enjoyed our chat, Severus, but I have other matters to attend to. Good day."

And he vanished, leaving Severus gaping after him in incredulous anger.

_Just like the old fool_, Severus thought furiously, grabbing a cup from the cupboard and slamming it down on the counter.

"Er—Professor Snape?"

Severus whirled around. Potter was standing in the door way, owl cage in hand, trunk beside him.

"What are you doing down here?" snapped Severus, in no mood to deal with obnoxious thirteen year-olds.

"It's eight o'clock," said Harry, pointing at the clock on the wall.

Severus glanced at the clock as well. "So it is," he said grudgingly. "There's been a change of plans, Potter. You are going to be staying here."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "For how long, sir?"

"Knowing the headmaster, for the remainder of the summer," said Severus through gritted teeth.

"Professor Dumbledore was here?" said Harry.

"Yes, and he has—_informed_ me that you are to remain with me."

"Oh," said Harry.

Severus raised a cynical eyebrow. "Do you have a problem with that, Potter?"

"No," said Harry quickly. "That is—do you?"

Severus flexed his hands, which he realized he had clenched into fists. Harry flinched. Severus took a calming breath. "For the last time, Potter, I am not going to hit you. Come here."

Harry walked over hesitantly and stood in front of Severus.

"Are your feet particularly interesting, Mr. Potter?" said Severus.

Harry forced himself to look into his professor's face.

"As long as you're going to be staying here, you might as well have some breakfast," said Severus.

Harry didn't move. "You haven't answered my question."

Severus lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Do you mind that I have to stay here with you?"

Severus bit back a scathing retort. He had to tread carefully, he reminded himself. Making the boy dislike and mistrust him even more than he already did would only make the rest of the summer that much more miserable for both of them.

"It is certainly not what I had planned," said Severus carefully. "But," he said, holding up a hand, "I can think of worse ways to spend my summer. I can think of better ones too, mind you, but I can certainly think of worse."

Harry tilted his head slightly, considering the man in front of him.

"Your breakfast is getting cold, Potter."

Severus led the way to the table, with Harry following behind him.

*****CTK*****

"If you are going to be living here for any amount of time there are rules that must be adhered to at all times," said Severus, looking at Harry severely from across the table. "First of all, you are not to go snooping into my personal possessions and affairs. There is absolutely no reason for you to be in any part of this house other than your room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the corridors in between. If you would like to go anywhere else you must ask me first, and you must have a good reason. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," said Harry, nodding vigorously for good measure.

"Good. Second, when I am working I will not be disturbed. Nor will I be bothered for trivial reasons. I am a busy man and I don't care that you have discovered a new way to do you Charms homework or that your owl has returned with a letter from one of your little friends."

"Yes sir."

"Third, if I tell you to do something, you do it, if I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. No exceptions, no arguing, no talking back." He waited a moment for Harry to nod. "Fourth, you are not to leave the bounds of my property. The last thing I need is you getting lost. Fifth, if you _do_ legitimately need something, then for Merlin's sake ask for it, don't blunder about trying to do it on your own. Sixth, do not make messes. You will keep your room neat and put everything you use back where you find it. If you use the last of something in the kitchen or bathroom you will either replace it or alert me. Seventh, _try_ and use some common sense. Eighth—" he paused and looked at the boy. "Eighth, I expect my rules to be obeyed, and if they are not you will be punished. But I will not hit you or abuse you in any way. If my rules are obeyed...then I hope you will not find living here too unpleasant." He took a breath. "Harry, I mean you no harm. I want you to feel safe here. Do you believe me?"

Harry looked into Snape's dark eyes and saw sincerity there. "I believe you," he said softly.

Severus felt that strange tug on his heart again, the one that he was beginning to associate with Potter.

"Well then," he said crisply. "We'd better move your things back into your room then, hadn't we?"

**AN: I hope you enjoyed the chapter (an actually decent length one this time). Drop me a review if you feel so inclined. And if you don't know whether to or not, the answer is yes ;) I do respond to all my reviews. Until the next chapter,**

**-SQ**


	4. Chapter 4: Bored

**Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Four: Bored**

Harry sat at the kitchen counter, doing his summer Transfiguration reading and swinging his feet with a rhythmic _thump_ against the baseboard of the counter.

Severus was in his study on the other side of the wall, attempting to read an article in the newspaper.

_The Ministry of Magic _thump! _has confirmed the rumor that _thump! _There will indeed be _thump! a_ change in power _thump!_ in the administration of—_

"For Merlin's sake!" exclaimed Severus, throwing his newspaper down on the desk. He stuck his head out of the door into the kitchen. "Potter! What _are_ you doing?"

Harry looked up guiltily. "Sorry, sir," he said, stilling his swinging feet. "Was I bothering you?"

Severus rolled his eyes. _"No,"_ he said sarcastically, "I enjoy having my reading interrupted by a herd of elephants."

Harry giggled.

Severus's eyebrows shot up and Harry immediately sobered. "Sorry sir."

Severus shook his head, caught between annoyance and amusement. "Continue with your studies, Potter, and I will continue reading my newspaper."

Severus returned to his desk and picked up the paper again.

_The Ministry of Magic has confirmed the rumor that there will indeed be a change in the administration of the Department for the Regulation and Sale of Potions Ingredients. Mr. Conrad C. Humphrey _thump! _Former vice-president of _thump! _the Organization Representing the _thump!_ Decedents of Foreign Immigrants—_

"Potter!" Severus slammed out of his office again, making Harry start and nearly fall out of his chair. "_Will_ you stop that infernal thumping?"

"But sir, I'm _bored_," said Harry. "There isn't anything to do."

"What about your homework?" said Severus.

"I've been working on it all morning," said Harry.

"Well, work on it some more," snapped Severus.

"Fine," said Harry gloomily.

Severus sighed. "What _do_ you want to do, Potter?" he asked, sitting himself in the chair beside the boy.

Harry shrugged listlessly. "You won't let me do anything anyway."

"That is not true, Potter," said Severus. "I just want you to ask before you go traipsing around the house."

"You told me not to bother you."

Severus put his face in his hands. The boy took things so literally! And he looked so sad...

"Potter, since you have already succeeded in bothering me, why don't you ask me now."

"Could you show me the library?" he asked hesitantly. "I haven't got anything to read but my school books and _Quidditch Through the Ages_, and I've read that four times already."

Severus's expression grudgingly softened. "Come on then, Potter," he extended his hand to the boy.

Harry stared at Severus's hand for a few seconds, unsure of what to do.

"Come _on_, Potter," said Severus.

Gingerly, Harry put his small hand into Severus's larger one. The Potions Master's hand was dry and warm and his grip was firm and not all together unpleasant. The two of them walked hand in hand through the sitting room and through a large wooden door.

"Here you are then, Potter," said Severus, releasing Harry's hand and sitting down in a chair. "The books you would be interested in are over there." He gestured to a section of the bookshelves.

Harry cast one last, nervous glance at his professor and then crossed the room to the wall of books. Five minutes later he returned to Severus with two books clasped under his arm.

"Could I—er—read these outside?" he asked.

Severus glanced out the window. The sun was shining brightly down on the lawn.

"Do not get them mussed or dirty," he said sternly.

"I can then?" asked Harry eagerly.

"Yes," consented Severus. "If you are very careful."

"Thank you sir," said Harry, smiling slightly.

"Off you go now, Potter," said Severus gruffly, trying to hide the effect that smile had on him. "I have things to do."

"Yes, sir," said Harry, and went off to read his newly chosen books outside.

*****CTK*****

Severus looked up from his work and realized that he had neither seen nor heard the boy for several hours.

"Potter?" he called, rising stiffly from his chair. "Potter, where have you gotten to? If you've gone somewhere where you're not allowed—" He opened the door to the garden and looked out.

Harry was there, sitting under a tree. He had fallen asleep while reading one of the books from Severus's library, the book falling closed on his lap, his fingers still keeping his place, while his head lolled to the side.

Severus watched him for a moment, feeling strangely touched by the figure of the sleeping teen.

The sun had gone behind a cloud some time ago and a chill had settled over the garden. A gust of wind blew threw the tree and Harry shivered in his sleep. Severus crouched down beside him.

"Potter? Potter?" He shook the boy's shoulder gently. "Harry, wake up."

Harry stirred and opened his eyes. "Huh?" he mumbled sleepily. "Oh!" he exclaimed, jerking back.

Severus chuckled. "No need to get jumpy, Potter. It is only I. I thought you might want to come inside before you freeze."

Harry nodded and gathered up his books, shivering in his thin t-shirt.

"Inside, Potter," said Severus. "Before you catch a chill."

Harry followed Severus into the house.

"We're having soup for dinner," said Severus tersely. "I don't serve fancy royal banquets here."

"That's okay," said Harry quietly. "At the Dursleys I usually just get whatever's left over. If anything is."

Severus flinched. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Potter," he said. He placed the a bowl in front of Harry. "Eat. You look like you haven't had a decent meal in days."

"I haven't."

Severus involuntarily reached out a hand and touched Harry's shoulder. Harry looked up at him and Severus glanced away, unable to face those green eyes. "Eat, Potter."

*****CTK*****

Over the next few days, Harry and Severus basically operated in separate spheres. They ate their meals together, in almost total silence, and then Harry would do school work or read or sit outside while Severus retired to his study. He was surprised at how good the boy was at entertaining himself, how acquiescent and quiet. Not at all like his pompous father...

Severus shook his head at this thought. Potter _was_ like is father, maybe not as much as Severus had though before, but there were things there...and he looked so damn much like James! James...with Lily's eyes...

*****CTK*****

*tap tap tap*

At first the knocking was so soft that Severus's didn't even register it.

*tap tap tap*

Severus looked up. "Yes?"

The door to his study opened slightly as Harry appeared in the doorway.

"Er—Professor...?"

"Well?" prompted Severus.

"I was wondering if... When you were sick—" he swallowed, unsure how the Potions Master would react to a reminder of that time, "you helped me with some of my homework. I was wondering if you might help me again."

Severus stared at him.

Harry swallowed. "You're busy," he said, starting the close the door again. "I'll just—"

"Harry, wait."

Harry paused.

"What do you need help with?"

Harry entered the room hesitantly. "It's—well, it's your assignment," he said reluctantly. "I—I don't really understand what it's asking."

"Give it here," said Severus tiredly. "Let me see."

He looked over what Harry had written.

"Typical dunderhead Potter," said Severus snidely, without thinking. "Can't even read the assignment properly. Just like your spoiled, arrogant father"

Harry flushed. "Sorry for wasting your time, sir," he snapped and, grabbing the papers out of Severus's hands, stormed out through the door.

"Potter!" said Severus, cursing himself. "Potter! Stop!" He ran out of the room behind Harry and grabbed his arm.

"Let _go_ of me!" snarled the boy, twisting around. Instinctively, Severus tightened his grip.

"Ow! Let _go_!" yelled Harry.

Severus dropped Harry's arm and stepped back. Harry stood there, rubbing his arm and glaring at Severus. Severus felt a pang in his chest.

"Potter..."

"You lied to me.

"_Potter..."_

"You told me you didn't hate me anymore."

"Harry! I—I shouldn't have said that. I spoke without thinking. Come back in and we'll try again, shall we?"

Harry didn't move. Severus extended his hand but Harry made no move to take it.

"Harry, I don't hate you. You wouldn't be here if I hated you. I didn't mean what I said just now, not really. It was...a force of habit. Come back and I'll show you how to do the work properly." He extended his hand again.

After a moment Harry took it and warily followed Severus back into his study.

Severus sat down on the couch. "Sit here," he said, indicating the spot beside him. "When I grabbed you—did I hurt you?"

Harry stared at his lap.

"Let me see," said Severus. He pulled up Harry's sleeve. A purple bruise was already beginning to form where Severus had grabbed him.

Severus stood up and crossed to the window. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands. How was Potter ever going to trust him if he kept doing things like this? And why did that thought hurt so much?

After a moment a tentative voice said, "Professor?"

"I hurt you. I promised not to hurt you," said Severus, still staring out the window.

"It's okay," said Harry softly. "I know you didn't mean to."

"It's not okay," said Severus heavily, turning around. "But what's done is done I suppose. Would you still like help with your homework assignment?"

"Yes sir," said Harry shyly. "If you don't mind."

"No, Potter," said Severus wryly. "I don't mind."

**AN: I know there's been a lot of Severus POV and not very much Harry. Next chapter is mostly Harry POV. I hope you liked it. Tell me what you think?**

**-SQ**


	5. Chapter 5: Nightmares

**Disclaimer: Bet you can guess what I'm going to say. If you guessed "I don't own Harry Potter" then ding ding ding! We have a winner.**

**Chapter Five: Nightmares**

"Potter, we've been at this for three hours, wouldn't you like to take a break?"

Harry glanced up in surprise. "Really, professor? It doesn't feel like it's been that long."

"Well I assure you it has been," said Severus. "And I, for one, am hungry."

Harry's stomach grumbled. He smiled. "I guess I am too."

"Come along then," said Snape, "time for dinner."

Harry followed Snape into the kitchen and sat down at the counter. He swung his foot back, but then caught his professor's eye and let his leg fall still without hitting against the base of the counter. He watched as Snape pointed his wand at a pot, which hopped onto the stove, and then at various ingredients which began to pour themselves into it.

Harry risked a glance at Snape. "Er—professor?"

"Spit it out, Potter."

"Thank you for helping me. It makes a lot more sense now."

"I should hope so," said Severus, laying a plate down on the table in front of Harry. "If it didn't the last three hours would have been a monumental waste of time."

Harry and Severus began to eat in silence. It wasn't a completely comfortable silence, but it wasn't as awkward as it could have been either.

"You cook really well, sir," said Harry in surprise.

Severus cocked an eyebrow at him. "Just because I am a bachelor, Potter, does not mean I do not know how to cook. I have, in fact, had a lot of practice."

Harry flushed. "I didn't mean—"

"No doubt you did not," replied his professor.

"I _didn't_," said Harry hotly. "I—"

Severus raised his hand. "For heaven's sake, Potter, not everything I say to you is a personal attack."

Harry stared at the table. "Sometimes that's hard to remember."

Harry didn't hear his professor stand up, but suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You're tired," said Snape. "You should go to bed."

Harry looked at him. He had the feeling that Snape meant more with those words than he knew how to say. Harry nodded.

"Alright professor, goodnight."

Snape gave his shoulder an almost imperceptible squeeze. "Sleep well," he said softly.

"Er—you too, Professor," said Harry.

The man chuckled. "Bed, Potter."

*****CTK*****

Harry went up to the bedroom and pulled on his pajamas before sitting down on the bed. He looked around. The room was small, but not stuffy. It was rather drab and boring, but not exactly unfriendly, though he wouldn't have called it friendly either. It was comfortable, but not homey. It seemed...detached, as though it wasn't really meant for living in.

Harry looked over at the light, but his fingers made no move toward the switch, instead he lay down with the light still glowing above him. He knew he was being a baby, but he just felt calmer when the light was on, when he could see everything around him. So many things in his life were beyond his control, sometimes it felt like he was floundering around in the dark; he didn't need to add more darkness to that. Besides...bad things happened when he slept alone in the dark. Though the night was warm, Harry drew the overs up to his chin and stared up at the light on the ceiling until the burning in his retinas forced his eyelids to close.

*****CTK*****

Something was chasing him, something big and black and icy cold...a dementor...no, a hundred dementors...swooping down on him from every direction, calling out in cold, high voices. Evil laughs echoing hollowly. He couldn't see where he was going, couldn't see anything. He needed to reach his friends, they were in trouble, but he knew he was just going around in circles. And it was dark...so dark...

Harry awoke screaming, still trying to run from the dementors who were bearing down on him. One of them grabbed him and he jerked away, panicked.

"Harry! Harry, calm down!"

The hands gripped his shoulders and the light flicked on, seering his eyes.

"Breathe, Potter, breathe. You're okay."

Gasping for breath, Harry opened his eyes into slits. Snape's face was looking down at him in—concern? His hands had a firm grip on Harry's shoulders, which were still shaking uncontrollably.

"What's wrong?" said Snape.

"Nightmare," mumbled Harry, his heart pounding in his ears.

"So I gathered," said Snape wryly.

Harry, still feeling terrified, leaned gratefully against the Potions Master, who did not protest as he rubbed Harry's back until his breathing was somewhat under control.

"Would you like to tell me what it was about?" said Snape eventually.

"Dementors," whispered Harry.

"Can you be more specific, Potter?" said Snape dryly.

"They were—chasing me—it was cold—and dark—and I needed to help my friends—but I wasn't going anywhere—I couldn't see—"

"Ah, always the hero, even in your dreams. Have you had these nightmares before?" asked Snape.

Harry nodded.

"Is that why you left the light on when you went to sleep?"

Harry nodded.

Severus brushed Harry's sweaty hair back from his brow. "You feel clammy. You ought to take a Calming Draught." He flicked his wand. A minute later a vial of potion came floating through the doorway into his hand. "Drink."

Harry looked up at him with wary eyes.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter, I am not trying to poison you," said Severus.

"I know, I'm sorry, thank you," Harry managed. "Sir," he added, taking the vial and downing the contents. Almost immediately he felt himself begin to relax.

"Better?"

Harry nodded into the man's shoulder, suddenly exhausted.

Severus looked down at the top of the child's dark head. _He's alright_ he told himself sternly. _He's fine. It was just a dream._ He let his hand drift to the child's hair. "Are you going to be alright?" he heard himself ask.

Harry blinked and tilted his head up to look at his professor. "Y-Yeah...I think so..." he said shakily. "I'm s-sorry I woke you."

"I wasn't asleep anyway," said Severus. "But you should be," he added. He gently pulled away from the boy.

Harry reluctantly lay back down on the pillows as Severus stood up. He didn't want the man to leave him alone again.

"Leave the light on?"

Severus nodded. He stood for a moment in the doorway, watching Harry watch him with his brilliant green eyes.

"I'm right down the hall if you—need anything," he said.

Harry looked at him in surprise. "Er—thank you sir. I—I think I'm okay now though."

"Well, goodnight then, Potter," said Severus gruffly, and he turned around and left the room.

Harry closed his eyes and let his mind drift back toward sleep. _Living here is a lot better than living at the Dursleys'... I actually almost like it..._

**AN: Just something I came across while looking back through GOF:**

**"...and Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Harry."**

**Hehe. **

**Reviews would (as always) be oh-so-nice :)**

**-SQ**


	6. Chapter 6: Circles

**Author's Note: So I'm not quite sure where this chapter came from. I sat down with the idea of the topic of Sirius coming up and this is what happened. In retrospect, the way I was feeling at the time that I wrote it might have something to do with Harry's sentiments (that will make more sense once you actually read the chapter). I rather like it, though, and I hope you do too.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Six: Circles**

Harry had no more nightmares that night, and he woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly rested. He was in the middle of getting dressed when he heard something of a commotion coming from downstairs.

Yanking up his jeans and hurriedly fastening his belt buckle, Harry ran down the stairs and skidded into the kitchen. Only a great sense of self-preservation allowed him to keep a straight face. Snape was standing in the middle of the kitchen, trying vainly to capture a large, brightly colored tropical bird that was flying in large circles above his head. Its impressive wingspan kept bumping up against the walls, causing the crockery hanging there to jostle dangerously.

When the bird caught sight of Harry, it swooped down and landed on the counter in front of him, holding out its leg. To which, Harry now saw, a letter had been tied.

Severus glared at the bird and the boy. Unlike Harry, he had not had a restful night's sleep, though that was nothing new, and he was not in a patient mood this morning. Having a ridiculous tropical nuisance nearly destroy his kitchen had not improved this sentiment.

"What," he said icily, "is the meaning of this?"

"Er—" said Harry, "I think it has a letter for me."

"That is obvious," snapped Severus. "Though what kind of imbecile would send this _thing_ to deliver a letter instead of an owl is beyond me."

"I don't know, sir," said Harry, even though he had a pretty good guess as to who the sender of the letter might be.

His guess was confirmed when he turned the envelope over; the address was written in familiar handwriting.

"Well?" said Severus impatiently.

Harry swallowed. He had a feeling that this wasn't going to go over very well with the Potions Master; he and the sender of the letter were not on the best of terms, to say the least.

"Potter!" Severus snapped, at the end of his minimal patience. "Who sent you the damn letter? You will answer me when I ask you a question!"

"It's from Sirius," said Harry reluctantly. "My godfather."

Snape's reaction was exactly as Harry had feared.

"I know who he is," said Severus through gritted teeth, refusing to speak the hated name. "I should have known when I saw that—that monstrosity fly in here. Who does he think he is, sending letters here?"

"My godfather," said Harry in annoyance. "And he's not sending it 'here', he's sending it to _me_."

"Some godfather," spat Severus. "I don't see him making any great effort to get you away from your aunt and uncle."

"He's on the run!" said Harry, starting to feel angry. Snape wasn't being fair! "For murders he didn't commit!"

"That is none of my concern," sneered Severus. "And all the more reason for him not to be sending letters that could be intercepted."

"He's careful!" Harry protested.

Severus snorted in disbelief. "Why should I care if he's caught? So long as he doesn't involve me."

"He's not involving you!"

"He sent the letter to my house, didn't he?"

"He sent it to _me_!" Harry said again, he was practically yelling now. "I already told you!"

"Impudence!" said Severus, eyes flashing dangerously. "I will not take any more of your impudence, Potter! You are living with me, you should be grateful! You will follow my rules, and letters sent to you are sent to my house!"

"How would Sirius know that? You're being—"

"I am being what, Potter?" said Severus in a low, menacing voice.

Harry just glowered back at him.

"Give me that letter," breathed Severus.

"No."

"_What did you say to me, Potter?"_

"I said no!"

"Give me that letter, Potter, or I swear I'll—"

Harry took a step back, a wave of déjà vu crashing over him. The Hogwarts letters. Shouting. Uncle Vernon's face going purple. Harry up against the wall. Uncle Vernon's mustache quivering. Spit flying. Dudley laughing. A black eye, a split lip, a cracked rib, pain.

"_NO! IT'S MINE!"_

Harry turned and fled, thundering up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door with a resounding _CRASH!_ He fumbled with the lock, though he knew it wouldn't hold against Snape's unlocking spell if he wanted to get in, and then threw himself down on the bed, sobbing in rage. What right did Snape have to try and take from him the letter from the only person who really loved him, the closest thing to family Harry would ever have? And Snape had tried to kill him! Snape was an evil bastard, a slimy git, everything nice he had ever done or said had been lies. Lies, lies, lies, that's all you ever got from adults. Lies and pain and condescension, as if you were too young and stupid to think for yourself. They never listened to him, none of them, just like Snape hadn't listened to him that night in the Shrieking Shack, even though things should have been different between them. Ha! Nothing ever changed. Harry had fought Lord Voldemort—twice!—and won, and yet everyone still insisted on treating him like a baby. Had Dumbledore asked him if he wanted to stay with Snape? No, he had just told him. Do this, boy, do that, boy, give me the letter, boy, you should be grateful, boy, he was sick of it!

*****CTK*****

Severus stood in the kitchen, staring at the staircase Potter had just disappeared up. The anger boiling in his blood was urging him to go after the boy, to _make_ him hand over the infernal letter. But something kept him rooted to the spot.

A change had come over the boy in the second before he had fled upstairs, Severus could only assume to his room. The look in his eyes—it was as though he wasn't seeing Severus anymore, he was somewhere else entirely. Severus couldn't make sense of it.

As his head cleared, Severus wondered just why he had gotten so angry. Sure, the bird was annoying, and he hated Sirius Black with a passion rivaled only by his loathing of James Potter, but it wasn't like Severus to lose his temper like that. Something about how the boy had defended the mongrel, had switched to his side so easily, after Severus had been taking care of him for weeks! Okay, maybe not taking care of him...but he had given him a place to live, right? Somewhere away from his abusive relatives. That was more than the mutt Black could say! And Severus didn't even like the boy!

No, no, that wasn't true. Severus massaged his temples with his fingertips; he could feel a migraine coming on. He might not get along with Potter a lot of the time, but what he had told the child was true, he didn't hate him anymore. In fact, Severus had come to care about Potter in a way Severus hadn't known he was capable of. So, did he _like_ the boy? Maybe not, but, as much as he hated to admit it, Potter was more to him than the son of his only love and his worst enemy, more than just another student, another Gryffindor.

What had just happened? Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. How had he gone from comforting the child through a nightmare to shouting at him a rage? They were going around in circles. Why did Potter have to be so damn _difficult_?

_Was it only Potter who was being difficult?_ said the voice in his head that sounded infuriatingly like Albus Dumbledore.

Severus pressed his fingertips to his forehead in a vain attempt to stem the building headache. He should go talk to Potter, he knew he should, but he balked at having any more to do with Black, even through the boy.

*****CTK*****

Up in his—no, _the—_bedroom, Harry was finishing throwing a few clothes, books, and other necessities into a backpack. There was no way he was going to spend another minute in this house, not with someone who didn't want him there in the first place. Thirteen years of that were more than enough.

Harry eyed the window. It was a long way down to the ground. Grabbing his broom, he slung the backpack over his shoulders and slid out of the window, immediately shooting upward through the cloud cover. Now where should he go? He didn't know the way to the Burrow from here. He didn't even know where 'here' was.

It was hot outside, and he hadn't brought anything to drink. He also realized that he was hungry, but he wasn't about to go back now. Instead, fueled by anger, and though he wouldn't admit it, hurt, he pointed his broom in an arbitrary direction and accelerated, enjoying the familiar feeling of the wind rushing through his hair.

*****CTK*****

Severus shut himself up in his office and tried to read, but he couldn't make himself concentrate. Finally giving it up as a useless effort, he made his way to Potter's bedroom and knocked on the door, intending to have a more rational conversation with the boy now that they had both cooled down.

There was no answer. Severus knocked more persistently but Potter still didn't respond. Starting to feel annoyed again, he tried the handle. It was locked. Cursing Potter's mule-headedness, he magically unlocked the door and pushed it open.

"Potter—"

The room was empty.

"Potter, where are you?" snapped Severus, the migraine he had been fighting since morning with little success making him even more irritable.

When he got no reply he looked more closely around the room. That was when he noticed that Potter's schoolbooks and broom were missing and the window was open, curtains fluttering in the slight breeze.

"Potter!" he bellowed, wincing at the volume of his own voice. "Potter, if you don't answer me right now, I swear you will live to regret it!"

Still nothing. Severus checked the boy's trunk. A few sets of clothes and his toiletries were also gone.

Severus swore. How stupid could Potter be? Dumbledore would never forgive him if something happened to the boy.

Something was clawing at Severus's stomach, and it felt very much like worry. How long had the boy been gone? Where was he now? What manner of things had happened to him since he had left? Feeling to make sure he had his wand, Severus strode out of the house, determined to find the boy, hopefully before he got into any trouble.

*****CTK*****

The flood of adrenaline left Harry as quickly as it had come, leaving him feeling light-headed and dizzy. He landed under a tree, grateful for the sparse shade offered by its branches. Running away had seemed like the only logical option when he had left, the obvious choice. But now he was hot, tired, hungry, thirsty, and hopelessly lost. He didn't have Hedwig to send a letter and no one knew where he had gone. He supposed he could always perform underage magic so that the Ministry would come and find him, but probably the only thing that could make his situation worse was if he were expelled from Hogwarts, which was where that course of action would in all likelihood lead.

Harry leaned back against the trunk of the tree and tore open Sirius's letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_Did you like the bird? I thought he was fun, if a little wild. I hope you are enjoying your summer. I wanted to assure you that I am fine; in fact, I've never been better. I can't tell you were I am, in case this letter is intercepted, but I assure you that it is very comfortable and very far from England and there is plenty to keep me occupied. I let myself be seen last week by some Muggles so that the security around you wouldn't be so strict, but don't worry, I'm far from where I let myself be seen by now too. Still be careful, though. There are people out there who would like nothing better than to hurt you. But there are plenty of other people doing everything they can to keep that from happening. I wish I could be with you, but since I can't I send you my fondest wishes. Keep me updated on how you're doing. Are your aunt and uncle treating you alright? If you have any problems, don't hesitate to you write me. I expect to hear from you regularly or I'll think something's wrong._

_-Sirius_

**AN: My original intention was to write the "Harry & Severus talk about what happened in the Shrieking Shack" chapter. Well, obviously that didn't happen, but the set up for it did, that just took a little longer than I had anticipated. Like I said, I don't really know where most of this came from, I just went with it. It would be super if you could tell me what you thought about it ;)**

**-SQ**


	7. Chapter 7: Explanations

**Author's Note: I don't think it's quite as good as the last chapter, but I guess that's okay. I hope you still like it. **

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Just in case you thought I did, I don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Seven: Explanations**

It was hot, and Severus was sweating in his long black robes. The heat and the glare of the sun weren't doing much for his headache either, which had by now escalated into a full-blown migraine. Since he had left on his broomstick, there was no way to tell which way Potter had gone. Cursing summer, the sun, Potter, broomsticks, himself, and any number of other things, Severus conjured his patronus.

In the bright sunlight the silvery form was hardly visible, let alone identifiable as any specific animal. Satisfied, Severus instructed the transparent doe to find Harry Potter.

The patronus doe took off behind the house, away from the main street. At least Potter had had the sense not to fly right into the middle of the Muggle city. Jogging after the streak of silver, Severus was glad that there was no one there to see him right then, as he must have looked completely ridiculous.

"When I get my hands on you, Potter..."

Severus hadn't really gone too far, though it was far enough for him to be winded, when the doe slowed to a stop in front of a tree some ways ahead. Squinting, Severus saw a form leaning against the tree, still and unmoving.

Severus's heart gave a horrible jolt.

_Asleep_, he realized in relief and fury as he drew nearer to the tree. _He is only asleep._

"Potter," said Severus roughly, shaking the boy's shoulder. "Potter, wake up this instant."

Harry opened his eyes.

"_Professor?" _His throat felt like sandpaper.

"Didn't even think to bring anything to eat or drink when you ran away, did you?" said Severus. "Rash. Stupid, foolhardy, and rash." He conjured a glass of water and handed it to Harry, who gulped it down gratefully.

"Professor—"

"Quiet, Potter." Severus picked up Harry's things. "Get up."

Harry stood, feeling woozy from the heat. Severus handed him his things.

"Professor—"

"I said _quiet_, Potter. Come along."

He strode off in the direction of his house. Harry hurried after him.

"Professor—"

"What part of 'quiet' don't you understand, Potter?"

"All of it, I mean none of it, I mean I _understand_ all of it sir, I just—"

Severus rounded on him. "Shut up!"

Harry cringed. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for running away," he mumbled.

"What was that?"

"I shouldn't have run away. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

Severus sighed and rubbed his forehead, feeling suddenly guilty.

"We'll discuss this when we get home," he said. "Here, let me take that."

Severus reached for Harry's broomstick, but Harry gripped it more tightly, holding it away from his Professor's outstretched hand.

"I'm not going to harm it, Potter," said Severus. "Let me carry it for you."

Warily, Harry let Severus take his Firebolt.

"Please be careful with it, Professor."

Severus would have rolled his eyes if his head hadn't hurt so much.

"I know how to handle a broomstick, Potter."

*****CTK*****

When the two of them arrived back at Spinner's End, Severus took Harry into the sitting room and sat him down on an armchair.

"It's a wonder you don't have heatstroke, Potter," he said, pouring Harry a glass of lemonade. He pressed his hand against Harry's forehead. "And yet you seem to have survived unscathed. Your luck never ceases to surprise me."

He sat down heavily on a couch across from the chair and put his head in his hands.

"Professor...?" said Harry timidly. "Professor, are you alright?"

"No," snapped Severus. "I am hot and tired and have a migraine so bad I can hardly see straight."

"Professor, I'm—"

"Sorry. Yes, I know. And so you should be. What in Merlin's name were you thinking? Do you know how lucky you are that nothing happened to you? How do you think I'd feel if I had to bring you home in pieces?"

Harry shrugged.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I don't know sir. That is, I know what I was thinking, and I know I'm lucky that nothing happened to me, but I don't know how you'd feel if you had to bring me back in pieces."

_Have patience, Severus, have some bloody patience._

"Potter, before you left—"

"I'm not giving it to you."

"What?"

"It's my letter; I'm not giving it to you."

"I'm not asking you to," said Severus.

"Uncle Vernon took all my Hogwarts letters," said Harry after a moment. "He made me give them all to him. That's why I almost didn't get to go."

"I didn't know," said Severus truthfully.

There was another lengthy pause while Harry sipped his lemonade.

"Why do you hate him so much?" asked Harry at last. "Is it just because of that stupid joke he tried to play on you?"

Severus didn't have to ask who Harry was talking about. He clenched his fists. "It's a long and complicated story. We just never—got along."

"Like you and my dad?"

"Yes."

"It wasn't just that one time, was it? They bullied you in school." It wasn't a question.

"Who told you that?" said Severus, on his guard.

"No one," said Harry. "I can just tell. Dudley and his friends used to bully me back in primary school all the time. I'm sorry they did that to you, but I wasn't even born then."

"I know you weren't, Harry" said Severus heavily. "And I didn't mean to blow up at you like that. I just don't like the idea of that—of Black sending anything here."

"He's my godfather," said Harry quietly.

"So?" said Severus. "You barely know him."

"He's the only adult who's ever cared about me."

"That isn't true," said Severus softly.

"What?" said Harry.

"I said that isn't true."

"He _does _care about me! He wanted me to live with him! He—"

"There's no need to shout, Harry," said Severus. "That's not what I meant. I meant that... When you said you didn't know how I'd feel if you'd been hurt out there..."

Harry looked at his quizzically.

"I would have felt—upset."

"Professor," said Harry slowly. "Are you trying to tell me that _you_ care about me?"

"I guess I am," said Severus in a barely audible voice.

"Professor, are you sure you're feeling alright?" said Harry skeptically.

"No," said Severus, "but that has nothing to do with—with what you just said."

"Professor?"

"What is it, Potter? I would really like to go lie down. If you recall I have a splitting migraine.

"There's something I've been thinking about..."

"Make it quick, Potter," growled Severus.

"That night in the Shrieking Shack..."

"Harry, however it might have seemed to you, I swear to you, I did not know Black was innocent. I thought he was trying to trick you, to hurt you."

"Even when Professor Lupin—?"

"I _wanted_ to believe he was guilty. And then you three knocked me out before I could get the entire story... Harry, I wanted so badly for the person responsible for Lily's death to be caught..."

"Sirius is innocent."

"I know that now. I wish he wasn't, but that is beside the point."

"Pettigrew escaped."

"Most regretfully," spat Severus through clenched teeth.

"Professor, you should lie down. You don't look so good."

"No, really?" said Severus sarcastically. "And why-ever could that be?"

"I said I was—!"

"Relax, Potter, what's done is done."

"I wish you could feel that way about my dad and Sirius and Lupin," said Harry, too soft for Severus to hear. Out loud he said, "Would you like some ice for your head, Professor?"

"I would appreciate that, yes."

**AN: Over ½ over!**

**Remember how nice reviews are ;)**

**-SQ**


	8. Chapter 8: Insomniacs

**Author's Note: When I sat down to write this chapter this is what came to me. I thought about putting this scene off and finding something less, I dunno, dramatic, to fill some time between the last scene and this one so it's not two discussions back to back. But then I figured, this story has never been the think-it-through type, it's always been just write it how it comes to me, to hell with precise organization or what-not. So here it is, how it wanted to be written.**

**Disclaimer: This did not want to be written, because it's tired of being written every frickin' time, but, for convention's sake, no, I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Eight: Insomniacs**

Severus sat at the kitchen counter, staring unseeingly at his glass of firewhiskey. His exhausted body yearned for sleep, but he knew that if he went and lay down it would not come to him.

"You couldn't sleep either, Professor?"

"What are you doing out of bed, Potter?"

"I couldn't sleep."

Severus looked at the pajama-clad, tousle-haired boy standing hesitantly in the doorway. When had he come to welcome the presence of the teen?

"I guess we're a couple of insomniacs, Potter," said Severus wryly. "Come and sit down then."

Harry went over and sat gingerly beside his professor.

"Is your head feeling any better, sir?" asked Harry.

"Yes," said Severus, though he knew that this wasn't really what was on Potter's mind.

Severus conjured a glass of water and placed it in front of the boy. When Harry didn't look up he tapped him on the shoulder. Harry winced.

"You're sunburnt, Potter."

Harry shrugged. "It's not bad, I've had worse. It's my own fault anyway."

"Only partially," Severus heard himself say.

"What?" Harry looked up in surprise.

"You were not driven into folly by the mere musings of your own head Potter. I thought you would have been quick to blame me for what went wrong today"—he glanced at his watch—"yesterday."

"I would have," said Harry, "before..."

"Before...?" prompted Severus.

"Before last year. Before you took care of me...saved my life."

"You owe me no debt, Potter."

"I know that," said Harry. He was silent for a moment. "What you said...it is easier when there's someone else to blame, especially when it's someone you don't like. But that's not always fair."

"Life isn't fair, Potter."

Harry looked up at his professor. "Don't you think I know that?"

Severus looked down into the bright green eyes of his formerly most-hated student. They looked much older than his fourteen years. Severus was the first to look away.

Harry toyed with his water glass, picking it up and setting it down again without bringing it to his lips. Being around Snape was like walking on eggshells; sometimes they actually seemed to be getting along, and other times... he shook his head.

"What's troubling you, Potter?" said Severus.

"Nothing's changed, has it?" said Harry.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing's different," said Harry. "Before I was a burden to the Dursleys, now I'm a burden to you."

Harry felt a hand on his back.

"Look at me, Potter. _Look at me._"

Harry raised his head.

"You are not a burden, Harry," said Severus. "At first, yes, I did not want you here. But that had much more to do with me than it did with you. I am a very selfish man, Harry. I did not care for you out of a feeling of charity, or out of the goodness of my heart. I did it because I made a promise, after your mother died, to do everything I could to keep her child safe."

"But why?" said Harry, feeling quite baffled and confused.

"Because your mother was the only real friend I ever had," said Severus softly.

He pain in the man's voice was so evident that Harry took his hand.

"But you hated me."

"I did," Severus acknowledged.

"What made you change your mind?"

"You."

"Me?"

"You are not a burden, Harry," said Severus again, softly. "You are a foolish, naïve, meddlesome child who is forever sticking your nose where it doesn't belong and getting into all sorts of trouble." He touched the boy's hair fondly. "But I suppose there are worse things to be than that."

"You're sure you don't mind having me here?" said Harry.

"Do I have a choice?" said Severus dryly. "No, I do not mind—so very much."

"I don't mind so very much either," said Harry quietly.

The clock chimed two.

"Come on, Potter, you should be in bed," said Severus, standing up.

"Oh, Professor," said Harry, making a face. "Won't you call me Harry? Not at school or anything," he added hurriedly. "Just here, when it's only you and me?"

Severus considered the boy. "Very well, Harry, it is still long past time for you to be in bed."

Harry got up and accompanied Severus up the stairs.

"Professor, sometime will you tell me about my mother when she was in school?"

Severus breathed in sharply. "Perhaps some other time, Po—Harry," he said shortly.

"It's just that, you knew her and I never got to and I have some pictures but—"

"Good_night,_ Harry," said Severus, patting his shoulder and pushing him into his bedroom.

"Goodnight, Professor," said Harry to the door, which Severus had already shut firmly. And, yawning, he crawled into his bed and quickly fell asleep.

*****CTK*****

Harry woke late the next morning. Unhurriedly he pulled on his jeans and a t-shirt, frowning at his reflection in the mirror. His hair stuck up worse than ever and his arms and shoulders were distinctly red from yesterday's excursion.

"Brilliant," he muttered to himself. "A great day for that."

Downstairs he went, still vainly trying to flatten his obstinate hair. He rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped in confusion. Severus was standing in front of the door to the off-limits dining room, looking secretive.

Harry eyed him. "Good morning, Professor," he said warily.

"Good morning, Harry," answered Severus. "If you would follow me."

With a mounting sense of apprehension, Harry followed Severus into the dining room, wondering what he could have possibly done wrong since he had gone to bed. His confusion mounted as he saw that the dining room table had been set with food and nice dishes and a small pile of cards and packages waited by one of the place settings.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

"Huh?"

"It is your birthday, is it not?" said Severus with a hint of—could it be?—amusement.

"Er—yeah," said Harry. "I mean yes, it is. But—how did you know?"

"I didn't. Professor Dumbledore owled me this morning," Severus admitted.

"And—and you did this for me?" said Harry, indicating the dining table.

"I certainly didn't do it for myself," was Severus's sarcastic reply.

"And what are those?" asked Harry, pointing at the letters and packages.

"Birthday cards and presents from your friends, I don't doubt," said Severus. "They came this morning."

Harry grinned in spite of himself. "Wow...thank you, professor. I—I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything," advised Severus. "Just eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

The breakfast consisted of pancakes, sausages, and several varieties of fruit. Harry ate until he couldn't eat anymore and then turned his attention to the cards and packages in front of him. Hagrid had sent his customary birthday cake and greeting and Ron and Hermione had both sent him cards and candies, as well as a cake from Mrs. Weasley. There was also a card and letter from Sirius. Harry glanced sideways at Snape as he opened these, but the Potions Master merely gritted his teeth and looked determinedly away as Harry read them. When he was through, Harry noticed that there was one last card and package left to be opened.

Harry picked up the card first, slitting the seal on the envelope and pulling out the folded card inside. It was plain but nice-looking. Harry unfolded it and read the simple inscription inside:

_Happy Fourteenth Birthday, Harry._

_-Severus Snape_

Harry looked up at his professor in surprise. "Sir—"

"The package, Harry," said Severus, without looking at him.

Harry picked up the small box. It was light. He carefully tore away the wrapping and removed the lid. Inside was a stack of photographs. All of them were of his mother. All of them were taken before her sixth year. Some were taken at Hogwarts, some somewhere else that looked like a Muggle playground. Some of them had other people in them, young witches and wizards Harry didn't know. A few he recognized vaguely. He could have even sworn that he saw his Aunt Petunia in a couple of the ones in the park; she couldn't have been more than twelve. Quite a few, both from Hogwarts and at the park, featured the same pale-skinned, black-haired, hook-nosed boy, gangly and slightly unkempt, and with a smile on his face that alone made him hardly recognizable.

"Yes," said Severus in a slightly choked voice from over Harry's shoulder. Harry jumped; he hadn't realized the man had come up behind him. "That was me."

Harry stared at them in wonder. "Oh sir...you didn't have to—"

"I believe that's what makes it a gift, is it not?"

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, turning around and, on impulse, giving the man a hug.

"Harry," said Severus, feeling very discomfited. "There is no need—"

Harry pulled back, his eyes damp and threatening tears. "Thank you," he said again.

"That is enough of that," said Severus gruffly. "Go put those somewhere safe."

"I will," said Harry earnestly.

Severus watched the boy hurry back upstairs, clutching the box of photographs to his chest. He blinked his eyes, which had become suddenly moist. _Damn dust._

**AN: So, what do you think? This story was not very planned, though I suppose it was a bit more planned than Coming to Care was, mostly because I took longer to write it, so ideas that came to me in advance of where they went into story had to be jotted down as notes rather than written into the story right then and there. Anyway, I hope you're liking it anyway, I assume you are if you're still reading by Chapter 8 of the second story, lol. A review would be ever-appreciated :)**

**-SQ**


	9. Chapter 9: Routine

**Author's Note: So I don't like this chapter quite as much as the last couple, but it is what it is I suppose. Hope you like it.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Now really, would you believe me if I told you I **_**did**_** own Harry Potter? I didn't think so.**

**Chapter Nine: Routine**

The next couple weeks went by and Harry and Severus fell into an easy routine. Severus, always a rather solitary person, still spent most of his time in his study, but Harry was no longer afraid to knock politely on the door and ask to talk to him. The two ate all their meals together, Harry often helping Severus with the preparation. It was nice, even when they weren't actually interacting, to know that there was a sympathetic soul in the house keeping them company.

Harry finished his summer homework with minimal but willing help from Severus. Then he took to perusing the Spinner's End library, which Severus had given him free reign of, provided that he treated it with respect.

"But one stain or tear or lost book—" he had warned.

"I know, I know," said Harry. "I'll be careful, I promise."

*****CTK*****

Severus was sitting in his study, constructing his lesson plans for the next year, but his focus wasn't in it. The one window in the room was covered, but he knew that it was a beautiful day outside. What was more, he was having one of his migraines again. Not that he wasn't used to working through those, but for some reason today he kept being distracted by every little sound.

There was a sudden knock on the door and Severus jumped.

"Come in, Harry," he said, turning in his seat to face the boy as he entered the study. "What is it?"

"Why are you cooped up in here, Professor?" said Harry, glancing around the dingy little room. "It's such a nice day outside."

"I have work to do, Harry," said Severus. "The new year is fast approaching and I need to prepare my lesson plans."

"Aw, come on, professor," said Harry. "How hard can that be? You teach a lot of the same stuff every year. Besides, everyone needs a break."

"Not all of us have as much spare time as you obviously do," Severus snapped.

Harry took a reflexive step back. "Well sorry," he said shortly. "If you're going to be that way—"

"Harry," said Severus, "I didn't mean to snap at you." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe I do need a break."

Harry watched his professor stand up, stretch, and wince.

"Sir, are you alright?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine," said Severus.

"You have another migraine, don't you?" said Harry astutely.

Severus scowled at him but nodded.

"You seem to get an awful lot of migraines, sir," said Harry.

"Poppy says it's stress," said Severus. He cast his gaze on the pile of lesson plans on his desk and snorted. "Hmph, I wonder why?" he said sarcastically.

"Poppy?" said Harry, confused. "Oh, Madam Pomfrey." He too looked at the lesson plans. "If you dislike teaching so much, why do you do it?"

"I don't dislike it," said Severus. "I know I seem to, but really I enjoy teaching...when there are pupils worth teaching that is."

Harry laughed. "And am I worth teaching, Professor?"

"Sometimes," said Severus with a chuckle.

The two of them left the small, dingy study behind and went into the living room where they sat down on the sofa beneath the window. Severus closed his eyes against the sudden brightness of the sunlight.

"Is it really bad?" Harry asked.

Severus lifted a hand in a "so-so" gesture.

"You should take a headache potion," said Harry.

"Don't tell me what I should do, Potter," snapped Severus. Harry flinched. "I didn't mean that, Harry," he said, opening his eyes. "It's a reflex."

"I know," said Harry.

"I try not to take the potions," said Severus. "It's too easy to become addicted."

"You'd rather be in pain?"

Severus spoke without thinking. "I'm always in pain."

Harry bit his lip. "I wish I could help," he said softly.

Severus shook his head. "Don't worry yourself about me, Harry," he said. "There are some wounds no one can heal, some mistakes that can't be undone. I survive, that's more than can be said for some people."

He stood up and offered his hand to the boy. "Come along, Potter, as you said, it's a beautiful day. What we need is some fresh air."

Harry took his professor's hand and walked with him out of the house and into the brilliant sunshine. Severus squinted his eyes against the glare, but the slightly scented summer air was actually soothing to his aching head.

The two of them walked without thinking about where they were going and without any clear destination in mind.

"Hey," said Harry suddenly, stopping short. "It's the park. The park from the photographs."

Severus looked up. It was indeed. Severus's feet had automatically retraced the route he'd taken so many times as a child. He could almost see Lily on the swing, pumping her legs higher and higher, laughing as the breeze blew through her dark red hair. Severus's breath caught in his throat.

"Professor? Is something wrong?"

"No," said Severus. "This place holds...many memories."

"Of my mum."

"Yes."

"Won't you tell me about her?" said Harry.

Severus shook his head. "Someday, Harry, I will, I promise. But that story is...very complicated. She was a good person, your mother, the best. Much better than I. She did not deserve what happened to her."

Harry touched Severus's shoulder gently. "You looked so happy in those old pictures."

"I was," said Severus with a small, reminiscent smile. "When I was with her...I was always happy." His face clouded. "Some of the only times I _was_ happy."

Harry nodded, understanding.

They sat there for a while, Harry imagining his mother as a child, playing in this park, Severus remembering the same.

When the sun began to sink toward the horizon Severus stood. "Time to go home, Harry. I still have work to do."

Harry followed suite. "How's your head, Professor?"

Severus shrugged. "Better than before," he answered.

"Can't your work wait for tomorrow?" asked Harry.

"Why?" said Severus. "Why wait for tomorrow if I can do it now?"

"'Cause maybe if you lie down you'll feel better tomorrow," said Harry.

Severus looked at him.

"It actually matters to you, doesn't it?" he asked in some surprise.

It was Harry's turn to shrug. "It matters to you how I'm feeling."

Severus ruffled the boy's hair. "Alright. Maybe I will go lie down." He inserted the key into the lock and opened the door. Harry followed him inside. "I'll have to fix dinner first."

"I can do it."

"What?"

"I can do it," repeated Harry. "I do plenty of cooking at the Dursleys. I know how."

"Well then," was all Severus said before going into the living room and lying gratefully down on the sofa.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew Harry was shaking his shoulder hesitantly.

"Professor, I have dinner ready if you want some."

Severus opened his eyes. Harry was holding a plate of food, but Severus's migraine was making him feel a bit nauseas.

"Maybe later, Harry," he said, waving him off.

"Alright," said Harry. "If you want it it'll be in the kitchen."

Severus nodded. "Thank you, Harry."

"You'll feel better in the morning, right?" said Harry.

"Yes," Severus assured him, rolling his eyes. "It is only a migraine."

"Alright, alright! Just asking!" Harry smiled. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Goodnight, Harry," said Severus. "Go to bed. I am still the adult and still in charge."

"Yes, sir!" said Harry smartly and, saluting, he marched up the stairs to his bedroom, but not before throwing a grin over his shoulder at his professor.

_Insolent boy,_ though Severus with a shake of his head, but there was no menace behind the words.

**AN: This story tarts to wrap up pretty soon, It goes until the end of the summer, right before Harry starts school again. Still time to review though! ;)**

**-SQ**


	10. Chapter 10: Thing is

**Author's Note: Ok, so not much happens in this chapter. But, again, I didn't want to go into the next part yet, I want to give it its own chapter. **

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: Nope, sorry, haven't acquired Harry Potter since the last update.**

**Chapter Ten: Thing is...**

Harry woke suddenly, his scar on fire. Still breathing heavily, he sat up and fumbled for his glasses, trying to recall the dream which had seemed so vivid. He had been in a dark room... There had been an old man...and a snake...and a man called Wormtail...and the cold, high voice that Harry knew belonged to Lord Voldemort...

Harry shivered. He closed his eyes and tried to remember more, but it was no use, the dream was slipping away like water through cupped hands. He rubbed his scar, which was still prickling painfully. Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking...about someone they had killed. And they had been planning something...to kill someone else..._him_!

Harry looked around nervously, half expecting something to jump out at him from the shadows at the corner of the room, but he was alone. He rubbed his eyes. The last time his scar had hurt like this it had been because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But Voldemort couldn't be _here_, could he? Surely Snape would allow that...Harry _trusted_ Snape.

He bit his lip. It was awfully early in the morning, and he didn't fancy waking his professor at this hour. He thought about writing Ron and Hermione, but dismissed the idea. They would only worry. Finally, though he knew Snape wouldn't like it, he decided to write to Sirius. He wouldn't put in anything about the dream, he didn't want to worry his godfather either, just about his scar, see if Sirius had any advice.

By the time Harry had finished his letter to Sirius, the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. Hedwig wasn't back yet from hunting, so he left it on his desk. Then he got dressed and walked downstairs, knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

****CTK*****

Severus was quite surprised when he came down the stairs to find Harry, who usually slept late, already sitting at the kitchen table.

"Good morning," said Severus. "You're up early."

"Erm—yeah," said Harry. He was starting to feel rather silly for worrying so much about his scar and the dream. "I—er—had a dream."

Severus cocked an eyebrow. "I see..."

"I woke up with my scar hurting," said Harry a bit defensively. "The last time that happened Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But he couldn't be here, could he?"

"No," said Severus, more sharply than he had intended. "Harry, what was your dream about?"

"I—I can't remember much about it," said Harry uncomfortably, feeling more stupid by the second. "But Voldemort was in it, and Wormtail—Peter Pettigrew. They were plotting to kill...someone."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "Do you remember who?"

Harry cowered under Severus's piercing gaze. "Er...me," he said in a small voice.

A strange emotion played across Snape's face. Finally he gripped Harry's shoulder and said. "When your mother died I promised I'd do everything in my power to protect you. Harry, I don't know what your dream means, or the fact that your scar hurts, but I promise you are safe here. Tell me if your scar hurts again or if you have any more strange dreams."

Harry nodded.

"Now, how about some breakfast?"

Severus's mind whirled as he prepared eggs and toast for Harry and himself. The Dark Lord was up to something, of that Severus was sure. Pettigrew—Wormtail, had returned to him. What was going on Severus wasn't quite sure, but he knew it wasn't good. Albus should know about this. Severus glanced over at Harry. He was so young... Really, did the boy need any more problems in his life? Severus shook his head imperceptibly.

_Damnit if I'm not worried about him_, he thought ruefully. Of course, he had every reason to be worried, he thought grimly, when the Dark Lord was involved.

*****CTK*****

After breakfast, Harry went back up to his room to see if Hedwig had returned so he could send his letter to Sirius. She had, and she was not alone. A small, gray ball of feathers hit the side of his head like a fluffy torpedo.

"OUCH!" said Harry, rubbing the side of his head as he looked around at the flying missile. It was a minute owl which was whizzing excitedly around the room above his head. Harry looked down and saw that the little owl had dropped a letter on the floor at his feet. Picking the letter up, he realized that the address on the front was written in Ron's handwriting.

_Oh dear_, thought Harry when he had finished reading the letter. Ron had invited him to the Quidditch World Cup and, apparently, Mrs. Weasley had sent a letter to the Dursleys. Harry winced just thinking about it. Also, Ron said that he and the rest of the Weasleys would be picking him up at the Dursleys' on Sunday, tomorrow, at five o'clock. The only problem was that Harry wasn't _at_ the Dursleys'.

*****CTK*****

"Er, Professor?" said Harry, knocking on Severus's study door.

Severus, who had been in the middle of writing his letter to the headmaster, looked up toward the door.

"Come in, Harry, what is it?"

Harry came in, Ron's letter clutched in his fist.

"Er—Professor. Ron's invited me to stay with his family for the rest of the summer, and to go see the Quidditch World Cup. He said that they'll pick me up at five o'clock tomorrow. Only they think that I'm still at the Dursleys'."

Harry shifted from foot to foot. Severus stared at the fidgeting boy.

"Well, you had better inform them to the contrary, then, hadn't you?" said Severus archly.

"Does that mean I can go?" said Harry eagerly.

Severus sighed. Of course, the boy would much rather stay with his friends than here with Severus, it was only natural. Still, it would be rather lonely in this old house once he had left... _Nonsense_, Severus scolded himself. He had lived here for years alone, he _liked_ being alone.

"Of course you can go," he said.

Harry smiled. "Thank you." He gave the Potions Master a quick hug.

Severus patted his shoulder. "Come on now, none of that," he said gruffly, feeling touched. "Go write your friends to tell them that you're here."

*****CTK*****

That was easier said than done, Harry realized when he was upstairs, sitting at the desk with a blank piece of parchment in front of him. Just how was he going to tell Ron that he was living with _Snape_?

_Dear Ron,_

_Don't come to the Dursleys', I'm not there right now..._

No.

_Dear Ron,_

_When you come tomorrow you should come to Spinner's End, not Privet Drive..._

No, no.

_Dear Ron,_

_There are some things that have changed since I last saw you..._

Again, _no_.

_Dear Ron,_

_Remember last year when I got sick..._

No, no, _no_!

_Dear Ron,_

_Of course I want to go to the World Cup with you! But some things have kind of changed since I saw you last. Do you remember when I got really sick last year, and how Professor Snape took care of me? Well, I know this is going to sound really strange, so don't freak out or anything, but I'm not living with the Dursleys anymore. I'm staying with Snape in Spinner's End. He says that I can go with you though, so you can pick me up here tomorrow. I can't wait! See you soon._

_-Harry_

**Author's Note: So I paraphrased & shortened a lot of the dream stuff because I didn't want to just write it over again from the book. You all know what happened. Also, I didn't include what Ron's letter said because, again, you know that already. I know it wasn't the most interesting chapter, sorry, but it had to be here.**

**-SQ**


	11. Chapter 11: Departure

**Author's Note: Yes, yes, another quite short chapter, though it **_**is**_** over 1000 words. But it was just the right place for the chapter to end. It felt right to me at least. And, guess what? I'm the author :P**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't even really **_**want**_** to own Harry Potter. I'd rather just read it. And write fanfic about it.**

**Chapter Eleven: Departure**

Harry sat on the sofa in the living room at Spinner's End, staring at the fireplace. To say he was nervous would be putting it mildly. He wanted to see Ron—well of course he wanted to see Ron, Ron was his best friend—but, having gotten no response to his letter, he didn't know how Ron had reacted to the news that he was staying with Snape. And he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't have taken it all that well. And then again, he didn't know how his professor would act when the Weasleys came to pick him up. Especially if Ron was his usual untactful self. Snape wasn't a people person. At all. And the Weasleys were very...energetic. And Snape wasn't too fond of Ron. Though maybe that would change now that he didn't hate Harry? Harry shook his head. He just didn't know. He checked his watch. 5:00. They should be here any second.

Severus, too, watched the fireplace. He looked forward to the coming meeting none too eagerly. He had never been fond of the Weasley family, who were all together to boisterous, disorganized, and _large_ for his taste. While he was willing to put up with them for Harry's sake (_now, that's something I never thought to hear myself say_ he thought with dark amusement) there was certainly no love lost between them, especially the youngest boy. He tapped his foot impatiently; 5:05 and still no Weasleys.

"Your friends are late," remarked Severus with a slight sneer. "Punctuality is much favored virtue."

"They'll be here," said Harry.

"I didn't doubt it," said Severus. "I only observed that they are not here on _time_."

5:10 now. Harry fidgeted. The letter _had_ said five o'clock, hadn't it? Five o'clock on Sunday? He fished it out of his pocket and checked. Yes. Yes, it said so right there in Ron's messy handwriting. Harry glanced surreptitiously at his professor. The man was tapping his foot impatiently. Never a good sign. Harry hoped Ron and his family would arrive soon.

Severus rubbed his temples. Great time for a migraine, he thought darkly. He heard Poppy's voice in his mind, _"Severus, your migraines are caused by stress and tension. You must reduce your stress or you're going to work yourself to death."_ Reduce his stress? Yeah, right. He looked at the clock. The Weasleys were now fifteen minutes late.

Harry stared at the fireplace intently, as if he could will them to appear. When that didn't work he looked again at his watch. 5:20. Where _were_ they?

He glanced over at Snape again.

"Professor?" said Harry, watching the man rub his temples again. "Professor, er, please relax. I'm sure they'll be here soon. You're going to give yourself another migraine."

"A little late for that, Harry," said Severus tersely.

Harry suddenly felt inexplicably guilty for leaving Snape alone like he was doing. He knew any kind of goodbye was going to be awkward, but it would be next to impossible once the Weasleys got there. He stood up and crossed to the Potions Master, placing one hesitant hand on his arm. Severus looked down at him.

"I—er—" started Harry. "I just wanted to...to say...thank you. For letting me stay here, for putting up with me. For taking me away from the Dursleys."

A large hand clapped on his shoulder.

"What have I said about looking at your feet when you are addressing me, Harry?"

Harry looked up into his professor's face.

"You are welcome, Harry," said Severus neutrally. "It has been...interesting, having you here."

"Interesting?" said Harry, smiling slightly. "In a good way or a bad way?"

"Who can tell?" said Severus, also smiling. "Perhaps both." He winced.

"You're head's hurting you?" asked Harry.

"Some," admitted Severus. "But no matter. Harry, I—"

Just then they were interrupted by a great whooshing sound and several loud _pop!_s Both of them whirled around. Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George were emerging from the fireplace.

"Hello, Harry!" said Mr. Weasley cheerfully. "Got your trunk ready?"

"Hello," said Harry, grinning at him. "Yes, it's right here."

Fred and George waved, but their eyes were focused unhappily on Severus. Ron, who had appeared behind them, was also looking at the Potions Master, his expression distinctly hostile.

"Erm—well, hello," said Mr. Weasley, now addressing Severus. "Sorry we're late. A bit of a hold-up at home. I hope we haven't inconvenienced you..."

"Not at all," said Severus silkily, staring down his nose at Mr. Weasley. Harry winced. This was already not going well.

"Harry," said Ron in a very loud whisper that Harry was sure Snape could hear from the other side of the room. "Why in Merlin's name are you staying with _Snape_? Did he kidnap you? Are you okay? Has he tried anything? That git!"

"Ron, calm down!" muttered Harry, glancing at the Potions Master. "It's nothing like that! It's a long story. I'll tell you later."

"But he's _evil_!" said Ron, his voice rising,_ "_If something went wrong at the Dursleys, mate, you could have always stayed with us. You didn't have to come _here_."

"Shut up, you prat!" hissed Harry. "He can hear you!"

"So?" Ron shot back. "We're not at school; he can't do anything to us!"

"Ron! Fred! George!" said Mr. Weasley, sparing Harry the need to reply. "Get Harry's things, will you? We don't want to impose on Mr. Snape any longer than is necessary.

Fred and George, who had been glaring at Snape, went to pick up Harry's trunk, and Ron joined them with Hedwig's cage.

"Alright then, we'll be off," said Mr. Weasley with a strained kind of cheeriness. "Fred, you first."

Fred stepped into the fire, threw down a handful of Floo Powder, said "The Burrow!", and disappeared.

"Now George, you and the trunk," said Mr. Weasley.

George too stepped into the fire, said "The Burrow!", and vanished with a faint _pop!_

"Ron, you go next."

Ron, carrying Hedwig's cage and scowling, stepped into the fireplace and a moment later he was gone as well.

Now only Harry and Mr. Weasley remained.

"Alright now Harry," sad Mr. Weasley. "You go and I'll follow right after."

Harry grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from Mr. Weasley then turned around and looked at Severus one last time. To most his face would appear blank and unreadable, but Harry, who had gotten to know the man quite well over the past weeks, detected both pain and a faint trace of...sadness?

Severus lifted a hand in a half-wave.

Harry nodded, returned the gesture, and then stepped into the fireplace.

"The Burrow!"

**AN: Oh dear. Ron's not too happy, is he? Not **_**quite**_** as dramatic as the actual scene with the Dursleys in the book, but not **_**everything**_** can be all drama (though I try my best, lol). Hopefully you're still enjoying my story, don't see why you'd be reading chapter 11 if you're not. You can always drop me a review to tell me your thoughts ;)**

**-SQ**


	12. Chapter 12: Complicated

**Author's Note: So a lot of this is paraphrased or slightly changed stuff from the original book, and a lot of the lines are actually the same, but I tried to get through that part as quickly as possible because we know it already.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: I'm running out of witty ways to say that I don't own Harry Potter...**

**Chapter Twelve: Complicated**

Harry spun quickly past the blurred shapes of many fireplaces, elbows tucked tightly into his sides. Finally, he slowed down and came to a jolting halt in the Weasleys' kitchen fire, barely managing to keep his feet and he lurched out onto the hearth.

Looking around he saw Ron, Fred, and George sitting at the kitchen table with two red-headed people who he guessed must be Ron's two eldest brother's, Bill and Charlie. This was confirmed as they introduced themselves to him genially.

Charlie, who Harry knew worked with dragons in Romania, was short and stocky like the twins, with calloused hands, muscular arms, and a broad, weather-beaten, very freckly face.

Bill was taller than Charlie, and not at all what Harry had expected. All Harry had known of Bill was that he worked at Gringotts and had been Head Boy when he was at Hogwarts. This had made Harry assume that he would be similar to Percy; fussy, bossy, and uptight. But Bill, with his long, tied back hair, fang earring, and dragon hide boots, looked, well, _cool_.

Both of them shook Harry's hand, smiling down at him good-naturedly. Ron, however, was not looking so happy. He was sitting at the table with his arms crossed, scowling at the wall. Fred and George also appeared rather tense.

No sooner had the introductions been made than Mr. Weasley appeared in the fireplace with a faint pop.

"Well then," he said, looking rather ruffled. "That's that, isn't it? Welcome, Harry. We're glad to see you looking well."

"Thanks, Mr. Weasley," said Harry.

Mrs. Weasley appeared in the doorway. "Oh, hello Harry dear," she said, smiling at him fondly. "It is so good to see that you are well."

"Er—thanks," said Harry, wondering why everyone kept making such an issue of him being well.

Mrs. Weasley turned to the twins. "You," she said, not so pleasantly. "I want a word with you two."

"What about, Mum?" said Fred innocently.

Mrs. Weasley did not look amused. "You know very well what about," she said.

Hermione and Ginny had appeared in the doorway behind Mrs. Weasley while she was talking. Now Hermione said, "Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?"

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron moodily, "in my room, he slept there last—"

"We can all go," said Hermione pointedly.

"Oh," said Ron, realizing what Hermione was getting at. "Well, okay."

"Yeah, we'll come too," said George.

"Oh no you won't!" said Mrs. Weasley.

"Alright, come on Harry," said Ron as soon as the four of them had reached his room. "Stop holding out on us. What in Merlin's name were you doing at _Snape's_?"

"Yes," said Hermione, "why _were _you there?"

"If that bloody git did anything to you—" started Ron.

"Ron!" said Hermione.

"I'm just saying—"

"Shut up!" said Harry. "You don't know what you're talking about."

All three of them turned to look at him, surprise etched plainly on their faces.

"Well," said Ron huffily, "you think you'd trust your best mates with why you were there."

"He _didn't_ do anything to you, did he Harry?" asked Hermione in concern.

"_No,"_ said Harry. "I don't see why it's such a big deal anyway."

"You were living with your aunt and uncle and then out of the blue you send me a letter saying you're living with _Snape_," said Ron. "I think that's a big deal!"

"I didn't _like_ living with the Dursleys," said Harry.

"I know _that_," said Ron impatiently. "But you'd rather live with the greasy git?"

"It's complicated," muttered Harry. "And don't call him that."

"_What?"_ said Ron incredulously. "Are you actually defending him?"

"He saved my life, remember?" said Harry. "Twice now."

"So?" said Ron. "He owed it to you for how awfully he treats you. And it doesn't stop him from being an evil git."

"You don't know anything about him," Harry snapped. "He's not..." he rubbed his forehead. "He's not always mean, okay? And he didn't treat me awfully the second half of last year. He can actually be kind of...nice."

"_Nice?"_ said Ron in disbelief. "He tried to kill S—"

"Ron!" hissed Hermione, with a pointed glance at Ginny.

"Ginny, go away," said Ron.

Ginny looked outraged. "Oh, _that's_ nice!"

"It's my room," said Ron. "Get out."

Ginny got up and flounced out, shooting a glare over her shoulder at Ron before slamming the door behind her rather more forcefully than was strictly necessary.

"He thought Sirius was guilty, Ron," said Harry once Ginny had left. "He thought he wanted to kill me. We did too at first. I was about to kill him myself, remember?"

"Yes, but—" said Ron.

"Harry has a point, Ron," said Hermione.

"But that doesn't change the fact that Snape hates you," said Ron. "And you hate him!"

Harry ran a hand through his mess black hair. "Well..."

"You _do_ hate him, don't you?" said Ron.

"It's complicated," said Harry again.

Ron and Hermione just stared at him.

"I—he—we—well—no," said Harry finally. "No, I don't hate him, not anymore, and he doesn't hate me either. I almost think...he sort of..._cares_ about me."

"_What?"_ This came from both Ron and Hermione this time.

"_Cares_ about you?" said Ron. "Are you mental?"

"Harry," said Hermione cautiously, as though Harry were a bomb that might explode any second, "Snape has made it pretty clear in the past that he doesn't like you at all."

"I know," said Harry. "But you don't know what it was like, when I was sick. He took care of me, he could have so easily let me die and said that he simply couldn't save me, but he didn't. He sacrificed his own health for me, worked so hard to keep my alive and make me better than he got sick himself. And when he was sick he wasn't...wasn't so...guarded, I guess. We found out that we had more in common than we realized. After those weeks we had a bond that we couldn't fully ignore. And, well, I guess we _did_ ignore it, but it was still there, you know? I wouldn't go so far to say that we were _friendly_ after that, but we didn't hate each other anymore. And, I know it sounds bizarre, but I trusted Snape."

Ron spluttered, but Hermione held up a hand to silence him.

"That trust was shaken after the night in the Shrieking Shack, but then he came and got me from the Dursleys', he kept his promise."

"Promise?" asked Hermione.

"He promised that he wouldn't let me stay with them, at least not without—what did he say?—'serious intervention'," said Harry.

"That sounds more like a threat than a promise," said Ron dubiously.

"Why would he say that, Harry?" asked Hermione. "What did he mean, 'serious intervention?'"

Harry stared at the floor. "I don't want to talk about it."

"How could you trust Snape?" said Ron. "At least you knew where you stood with the Dursleys!"

"I know," said Harry, "but...Snape...understands things."

"What kinds of things?" asked Hermione.

"Look, I really don't want to talk about it," said Harry.

"I still don't get why you stayed at Snape's house," said Ron. "Okay so...so Dumbledore told him to come get you, yeah, that's it, but why didn't you come here then?"

Harry shook his head. "It wasn't Dumbledore's idea, though it was his idea that I keep living with Snape after he went and got me, but taking me away from the Dursleys was Snape's idea."

"I don't get it," said Ron. "What's he after?"

"He's not after anything, Ron," said Harry. "He and I...we kind of...understand each other now. Did you know he was friends with my mum when they were at school?"

Ron's and Hermione's mouths both dropped open.

"You're kidding!"

"No." Harry shook his head. "For my birthday he gave me a bunch of pictures of her."

"He was a stalker!" burst out Ron.

"No!" said Harry. "They were _friends_. I know it's hard to believe. But he was in some of the pictures too. He looked...well, he looked happy."

"Snape? Happy?" said Ron. "He's only happy when he's taking points and giving out detentions."

"It sounds like there's more to Snape than it seems," said Hermione quietly.

Harry nodded. "There is." He didn't elaborate; he had a feeling that his professor wouldn't appreciate him talking about his personal business with Ron and Hermione.

Ron still looked disbelieving. "I still don't trust him," he said. "He just seems dodgy."

"You don't have to," said Harry shortly. "It's me who was staying with him, not you."

"It sounds like they've stopped arguing downstairs," said Hermione, changing the subject.

"What did your mum want to talk to Fred and George about, anyway?" Harry asked Ron.

"Probably Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," said Ron.

"What are Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" said Harry curiously.

Ron laughed and, his bad temper and suspicion forgotten for the moment, began to tell Harry about Fred and George's new joke business.

**AN: I know some of you might have been wanting Ron to go all over-the-top, major git, huge row with Harry, but I **_**like **_**Ron. Yes, he's hot-headed, but he's a good person at heart, and I don't like it when he's portrayed as just a total git or a complete moron.**

**Some of you may notice that Ron sending Ginny away and Ginny's response is really stolen from the third book.**

**You can, of course, still review ;)**

**-SQ**


	13. Chapter 13: Alright

**Author's Note: Yes, this is, in fact, the last chapter of the fic. The rest of the summer is the same as in the original book, and really the majority of Harry's fourth year would stay the same too. Certain scenes would change, but not enough to warrant extending the fic to include it. There's already summary of stuff that's the same in the last chapter and the beginning of this one, quite enough of that I think. Sorry about all the summary part at the beginning, but it would be weird just to skip right to coming back from the Cup.**

**-SQ**

**Disclaimer: There were only 2 people who knew Severus's back story before the 7****th**** book came out. I was just as amazed as all the rest of you, proving that I am neither Alan Rickman nor, more importantly, J. K. Rowling, who owns Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Thirteen: Alright**

The rest of the evening was quite enjoyable. It wasn't too hard to steer clear of the topic of Harry's time with Snape because there was so much else going on. Percy bored them with talk about cauldron bottoms, Bill and Charlie battled tables on the front law, everyone discussed Quidditch and the disappearance of a Ministry witch named Bertha Jorkins, and then they all retired to bed.

All too soon Harry felt a hand shake his shoulder and heard Mrs. Weasley's voice saying, "Time to go, Harry, dear."

Harry sat up and felt around for his glasses as Mrs. Weasley woke Ron and the twins, who were staying in Ron's room because Bill and Charlie were in theirs. Then the four of them dressed and went downstairs, still yawning and rubbing their eyes tiredly.

Bill, Charlie, and Percy were apparently Apparating to the Cup, so they got to sleep in. Harry envied them.

After Ginny and Hermione arrived, they all prepared to leave, but before they could get out the door, Mrs. Weasley ordered the twins to turn out their pockets.

The twins' pockets, as well as various other places such as the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups or Fred's jeans, yielded several brightly colored objects that Harry assumed must be Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products. Mrs. Weasley was furious, and so were Fred and George.

*****CTK*****

Despite this less-than-friendly departure, by the time they arrived at the place where the Cup would take place they were all in high spirits. They managed to set up camp, no thanks to Mr. Weasley, and met several Ministry employees whose names Harry was sure he would never remember, or would ever need to. They also met Barty Crouch, Percy's boss, and Ludo Bagman, former Beater for the Wimbourn Wasps and current head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Later on Harry, Ron, and Hermione wandered around the campground, buying souvenirs and saying hello to fellow Hogwarts students.

Finally, evening came and it was time for the match to begin. The match was an exciting one. The Irish team played superbly, but the star of the game was the Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum. Ireland won the match, but Viktor Krum caught the Snitch. Harry was especially impressed by a move his Omnioculars told him was called the Wronski Feint.

It was after the match, however, that the real excitement began.

Harry was woken in the middle of the night by a commotion outside in the campground. Mr. Weasley quickly got them up and out of the tent, telling them to head for the woods. Behind him, Harry could see a gang of masked and hooded figures levitating the campground host and his family far above their heads.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not, however, able to escape the drama in the woods. Instead, after Harry noticed that his wand was missing, they were witness to a mysterious someone casting into the sky what they found out later was the Dark Mark: the sign of Lord Voldemort. What was more, whoever had cast the spell had used Harry's wand to do it. Harry's name had been quickly cleared of suspicion, but it was with a very full and churning brain that Harry returned to the tent that night, and it took a long time for him to finally fall asleep.

*****CTK*****

Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys woke early the next morning and quickly packed up the campsite in a tense, preoccupied silence. They went over to where the portkeys were leaving from and got in the queue. They arrived back at Stoatshead Hill when the sun was just starting to peak over the horizon and began the long trek back to the burrow.

The second they rounded the last corner Mrs. Weasley burst out of the house and came running toward them.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness! Arthur—I've been so worried—_so worried—_"

Mrs. Weasley, who was still wearing her bedroom slippers and whose face was white and strained, threw her arms around Mr. Weasley's neck, dropping the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ she had been holding.

Harry looked down at the paper. The headline read: _SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_ and it was accompanied by a black-and-white photograph of the Dark Mark hanging in the sky.

Mrs. Weasly was still muttering distractedly, but Harry's attention was suddenly drawn from her tight embrace of the twins to the front door of the Burrow where another figure had appeared. A tall, thin, dark-haired, _familiar_ looking figure...

Severus crossed the distance between the house and the lane in a dozen long strides and grabbed Harry hard by the shoulders. Caught by surprise, Harry fell against his professor, who gripped him in a tight embrace. Waves of relief washed over Severus. He had been so sure, when he had read the paper that morning... He had Apparated to the Burrow immediately, prepared for the worst, dreading what he would find out.

"You're safe," he said. "You're alright."

Harry, feeling utterly shocked and dazed, nodded as Severus released him slightly so that he could look him over.

"You're not hurt?"

"N-No," said Harry. "No sir, I'm fine. Really. What—what are you doing here?"

"I thought...when I read the paper this morning, it said there'd been an attack..."

Snape's face was white and drawn; for once emotion was etched clearly into the lines around his mouth written in his bottomless eyes; worry and relief.

"It wasn't really an attack," said Harry. "No one was hurt."

"Thank Merlin," muttered Severus, briefly pulling the boy against him once more.

Slowly they both became aware of Hermione and the Weasleys all staring at them in shock and bewilderment. Harry flushed and Severus quickly pulled himself upright with as much dignity as he could muster; after years of practice, the effect was quite imposing. One hand, however, remained on Harry's shoulder.

"Thank you for letting me into your home, Mrs. Weasley," said Severus stiffly.

"You're welcome," said Mrs. Weasley, looking confused

If she looked confused, it was nothing to how the rest of the Weasleys looked. Ginny, Percy, Bill, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley all wore identical stunned expressions. Ron, Fred, and George had their mouths hanging open, gaping at Harry. Hermione, though looking shocked herself, nudged Ron and whispered, "He _told_ you."

"Please, do come in and have some breakfast, Mr. Snape," said Mrs. Weasley, recovering herself.

"No," said Severus, "I think not. I would not like to impose upon your family any longer."

"Oh not at all," said Mrs. Weasley. Even as Ron shook his head frantically. "I insist."

*****CTK*****

It was a very uncomfortable breakfast. Harry kept glancing between the Snape and the Weasleys, especially Ron, who kept shooting death glares at Snape.

Finally he excused himself from the table. As he had expected, Ron and Hermione followed him.

"You've got to tell us what's up, mate!" said Ron. He looked angry. "Snape just shows up here? What did he say to you? What did he do to you? How could you let him touch you. He's creepy!"

"Shut up, Ron," said Harry tiredly. "You don't understand."

"You're not giving us a chance to, Harry," said Hermione softly.

"What do you mean?" said Harry defensively.

"There's something you're not telling us, Harry," said Hermione. "We're your friends, what is it that you're afraid to tell us?"

They had arrived at Ron's room by this point. Harry sat down heavily on Ron's bed and buried his head in his hands.

"It's the Dursleys," Harry muttered finally. "They...Snape came and got me from them because..." he licked his lips; he'd never said it out loud before, but Snape said it wasn't his fault...

"They abuse me," said Harry quietly. "They hit me and make me go without food and won't let me rest or take any medicine or take me to the doctor when I'm sick. They say it's punishment for what I do wrong, but..."

"Oh _Harry_," said Hermione. She sat down on the bed and flung her arms around him.

"Mate..." said Ron, looking stricken. "Mate, I had no idea."

"Ron, I know."

"I knew that they were right gits, but I didn't know..."

"Ron, I know."

"Mate, I really didn't—"

"Ron, I _know_! It's okay, really."

"Harry," said Hermione, "why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"I didn't think it was such a big deal," said Harry. "I was bad, they punished me."

"That's not punishment!" said Ron indignantly. "That's cruelty!"

"That's what Snape said," said Harry.

"What I don't understand is how Snape knew in the first place," said Hermione.

"I told him," said Harry.

"You told _Snape_?"

"Ron, will you let it _be_ with Snape already?" snapped Harry. "Yes, I told him, ok? I didn't _want _to. He saw the scars. He guessed. And you know what? I'm glad, because if it weren't for him I'd still be living there."

Ron sat down on Harry's other side. "He really hasn't done anything to you?"

"No, Ron, he hasn't," said Harry.

"I still don't like him," said Ron stubbornly.

"You don't have to," said Harry. "Honestly, he's not very easy to like, and I'm pretty sure he still doesn't like you either."

"But you're okay, Harry?" said Hermione seriously, her eyes full of tears.

Harry nodded. "I'm fine, please don't cry."

She nodded, but started crying anyway, throwing her arms around him again.

"Hermione, stop," said Ron, prying her arms away from a grateful Harry. "He's fine." He looked at Harry. "You are, right mate?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "'C'mon, let's go back downstairs."

*****CTK*****

"No," Severus was saying firmly. "I do _not _want to stay for another cup of tea." The surrounding Weasleys looked relieved. "Now that I have seen that Harry is alright I must return home."

He prepared to Disapparate, but Harry took a hurried step toward him. "Professor, wait."

Severus looked down at him. "Yes?"

Harry looked nervously around at the Weasleys. It was one thing to talk to Snape when it was just the two of them, it was another thing entirely to do it with his friends looking on curiously.

"Er—Professor," he said, lowering his voice so that Severus had to stoop in order to hear him. "Were you...were you really worried about me?"

Severus sighed. "Yes, Harry," he said, also speaking softly. "I really was."

"It wasn't just because of the promise you made after my mother died?"

"It stopped being just about that a while ago, Harry." He made to stand up but Harry stopped him again.

"Professor, I'm sorry about...about how it went when I left. I didn't mean to leave like that."

"Like what?" said Severus.

"Like—like, I don't know..." said Harry. "So...suddenly...and how Ron acted..."

"Your friends' lack of manners is not your fault, Harry," said Severus. "Since obviously his own father can't even control him..."

Harry opened his mouth to defend Ron, but instead he blurted, "Can I come live with you again next summer?"

Severus's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?"

Harry scuffed his foot on the floor. "It's okay if you don't want me to, I understand, it was a stupid question..."

"Do you want to?" asked Severus quietly.

"Yeah..." said Harry softly. "It's a lot better than living at the Dursleys. You don't...you don't hit me for one..."

Severus squeezed the boys' shoulder. "Do you know the reason why I had to wait a week before I came and got you this summer?"

Harry shook his head.

"There's a spell. Because your mother died to save you, you are protected as long as you live under her sister's roof, as long as you can call your aunt's house home. You'll have to return there next summer." Harry's face fell. "But I'll come and get you as soon as a week is up," Severus continued. "And I have a feeling it's going to be better for you during that week than it has been before, at least a little."

"Why?" said Harry. "How?"

Severus smiled. "We have our ways."

"And then you'll come get me?" said Harry.

Severus nodded.

"And I can live with you for the rest of the summer?"

Again, Severus nodded.

"And...and if Ron wants me to visit...?"

"You may visit."

Harry's face broke into a grin. "You promise?"

Severus reached down and ruffled the boy's hair. "I promise."

"See you at school, then, professor," said Harry.

Severus gave a nod of affirmation and then Disapparated, thinking that this school year might just be prove to be rather better than the last.

**AN: And there you have it. Honestly, by the time I finished this I was getting kind of tired of Harry and Severus; it was definitely time to let them rest for a while. Some of you may be quick to tell me that there is major stuff that would be changed near the end of the series. I am aware of that, and I plan to write some stuff about it. Not an entire new story, but a few drabble-type scenes about Harry's reaction to Dumbledore's & Severus's deaths. They will, through remembering, address anything important that would change in the other books as well. I hope to start work on that soon.**

**Thank you for reading. Last chance to review!**

**-SQ**


	14. Finally a Sequel Notice!

**Yes, that's right, the sequel is FINALLY here! I know, "dear Merlin, SQ, it took you long enough!" But I have to have access to all my books to write the fic, because I have to pull bits from them and change how they happen. Anyway. The sequel is called "Coming to Understand" and is the last of the "Coming to…" series. You can find it on my profile. I hope you check it out!**

**-SQ**


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